Pub Nights
by HappyHouri
Summary: It's Singles Awareness Day, and Harry meets up with his best mate's sister. This is part of the Valentine's Day fic contest on reddit and tumblr.
1. Pub Nights

Pub Nights

They had a standing date to meet at the pub. Every other Monday evening there was a table reserved for them at The Quiet Witch. Nobody bothered them there, and Harry didn't have to hide his face or feel like he should use Polyjuice just to have a pint.

The pub was not as popular as the Leaky Cauldron, or the Three Broomsticks, but Harry liked it better. Fewer crowds, and it was clean enough, as far as pubs went. The best part was, the owners didn't care who he was and had never once asked him to use his name or face for advertising. As far as he knew, the same witches and wizards who frequented the pub before he started coming were the same ones that continued coming after he'd made it a regular haunt.

Ron was late, but then he usually was. Harry had gotten used to it and just ordered his pint at the same time. Ron had never complained that his beer was warm. Occasionally, another friend would join them-Hermione, Seamus, Dean, or even Neville. They would laugh and joke about old times and were rarely serious, which is exactly what they all needed.

The Weasley Twins had come once, but after a rather raucous game of wizarding darts had been forever banned. They seemed to take it as a compliment and reciprocally banned the owner of The Quiet Witch, Hank, from their shop in Diagon Alley. There was a sort of ongoing, although good-natured, feud going on between them. Harry tried not to know details and did his best to just stay out of the way of it all.

Tonight Hermione was going to visit her parents-something she did often on their pub nights-and Ron had already told Harry that he planned to get completely pissed. He had the day off tomorrow and said he'd earned it by listening to Oliver Wood scream at him from the sidelines for six hours today.

Although they'd planned to enter Auror training together, when the offer to play backup Keeper for Ron's beloved Chudley Cannons had come, Ron had jumped at the chance. And Harry didn't blame him. If he'd had any idea what he was getting into by joining the Ministry, he might have taken another job offer-any job!

"Good, you're already here," Ron said as he reached over the back of the seat Harry was sitting in to snatch his pint off the table. He drank deep and long before wiping the froth off his upper lip. "Order me another while I visit the loo, will you?"

Harry just laughed and waved his friend on. He signaled Hank to order. The rail-thin, extremely tall man with huge, bushy eyebrows sent another couple of pints zooming his way.

When Ron joined him, Harry and he just stared at each other before cracking up. Both were completely disheveled. Harry glanced down at himself-a mess from his mission over the past several days-and then at Ron, who looked as if he'd been flying drills in a hurricane.

"Undercover mission," Harry grumbled. "Been three days without a shower, ate stale food from a tin, slept on the ground."

Their game of one-up-manship was another tradition, ever since their Divination days.

Ron just scoffed. "You've not had Bloody Oliver Wood losing his mind on the sidelines, screaming at you all day. Injured reserve, my arse. Ran four sets of stairs. Drills until my arms are ready to fall off. Quaffle to the head at least four times."

Like always, they let the comparisons die on the table. Both had been through enough over the past years that there was no competitiveness left in the friendship, despite what it might look like from the outside.

"Wood rides your arse like Robards rides mine," Harry said.

Ron made a face. Harry and Auror Director Robards hadn't gotten along since Harry's first day in training and their head-butting arguments were a thing of legend in the Ministry. Harry threatened to quit at least three times a year, and was probably fired more times than he knew. But the Ministry was sticking to his magically signed contract and no argument was going to override any of it. Harry was stuck.

And he loved the job, just not who he worked with.

"How's the kid?"

Harry smiled. Teddy was the highlight of his life and the best part of his days, when he got to spend time with the boy. "He's great."

"Learn to fly yet?"

"Almost," said Harry. "Andromeda let me actually take him up the other day, not just on the hovering broom. He loved it, like I knew he would."

Ron sipped at his drink and sunk lower in the booth, finally relaxing. "Yeah, well we both knew he would. She just needs to lighten up. You're not going to get him killed or anything."

Harry snorted and drank from his own glass. "Yeah, well…." Andromeda Tonks had not been thrilled when Harry had shown up at her door not long after the Final Battle and told her that Remus had named him as Godfather to little Teddy. In fact, Andromeda had slammed the door in his face. It had taken Harry several weeks of returning and making all sorts of promises for her to give in and let him inside.

"I don't really blame her," he said. "She's lost so much. Teddy is all she has left."

Ron made a face and signalled to Hank, ordering Firewhisky instead of just beer. He also pointed to a few things on the menu and received a wave that promised they would be out soon.

"How's Hermione?"

"Lost her mind," Ron grumbled. "If I'd known what I was getting into by proposing…"

"You'd have still done it."

"Yeah, probably."

They shared a look and laughed. Harry had been over to their place and seen Hermione's copious charts detailing everything that needed to be accomplished before the wedding. She was determined that everything would be perfectly in place long before their date drew close.

"And the family?"

"Good," Ron grunted. "Bill sent a picture of his new girlfriend. She's pretty."

"That's nice."

"Oh! I just remembered. Mum said that Ginny is moving back."

"Really?" Harry sat up slightly. Ginny Weasley was a complete mystery, of sorts. Immediately following Harry's rescue from the Chamber of Secrets, she'd been whisked away by the Ministry and shipped off to Beauxbatons. None of it made sense to Harry, but somehow they'd convinced Molly and Arthur that it was for Ginny's best interest and safety to get her far from Hogwarts where the memories of her possession by Tom Riddle might haunt her and do irreparable damage.

The nasty press coverage directed by the Malfoy family hadn't helped things. They'd never been able to prove for sure, but Harry was convinced that it was Lucius Malfoy who planted the diary with Ginny.

Ginny had spent the remainder of her school years in France, and, according to Ron and Mrs. Weasley, she'd spent several more years there with some sort of art internship or other. Harry was a little fuzzy on the details. He hadn't even seen Ginny in all the years of being friends with the Weasleys. They were meant to spend several Christmases together, but things seemed to always come up-a training mission for Harry, some exhibit that Ginny needed to take part in. He'd even seen some of her work-Mrs. Weasley had a published book sitting on one of the end tables at the Burrow with Ginny's photography in it. Harry'd thumbed through it a time or two, in awe of the shots she got from all over the world.

"What's bringing her back here?"

"No clue," Ron said with a shrug. "You know Ginny, always off to some place or other. She'll never settle down."

Harry wanted to point out that he didn't know Ginny at all, but it was a moot point. Ron usually got agitated when anyone talked about Ginny, and Harry wasn't in the mood to put up with it, so he let it go.

"Last I heard she was dating some bloke over there. I went over for that World Quidditch Conference last year, and it was just...strange."

Harry nodded, remembering how out of sorts Ron had been about it all. It had taken him several weeks to get over the trip, and Harry never really figured out why.

"She's just so...French now," he grumbled.

"Well, yeah," Harry said. "She's lived over there for more than eight years. I'd imagine some of the culture rubbed off."

"I couldn't even understand her." Ron scowled into his drink. "And she took me around to all these fancy places." He shook his head. "I didn't even recognize her anymore."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. He had no insight into siblings or their interactions with each other. After all these years, the Weasley siblings still mystified him. The closest he got was his friendship with Hermione, but she sometimes came off more like a mother than a sibling, at least with him.

"So, you plan Portree next week?"

Ron sat up, his face brightening. "Yeah. Oh, it's going to be a great game, Harry. You should get the day off so you can come. Their seeker-"

Three weeks later, Harry was back in the pub, glancing at his watch, still waiting for Ron to arrive. Harry had been sent to Spain for an Auror exchange at the last minute and missed not only two pub nights, but several Weasley Family Dinners, too. He'd just gotten back to England today and was still out of sorts from all the travel.

The place was suspiciously empty and Hank, the owner, was the only one in the place. He whistled the same annoying tune over and over while polishing glasses one right after the other.

"Rather quiet tonight."

Hank just grunted and kept on whistling. Harry continued to sip at his pint, eyeing Ron's which was getting steadily warmer.

After twenty minutes, a group of young wizards showed up. They gave Harry's booth a quick glance, but paid him little mind as they took over a corner and continued their conversation. Harry had half a mind to leave, but with nothing to go home to even that prospect sounded bleak. He hadn't even unpacked before coming straight to the pub.

Forty minutes and Harry had drained three drinks himself. He'd left Ron's original pint full on the table out of spite.

Several other groups had come in, including a few witches who paid a little more attention to Harry. He wasn't interested, mostly because it sounded like so much work to chat someone up and try to determine if they were impressed by him or the scar. Harry dated, just not often, and he'd never had someone he could really call a girlfriend.

There was a visiting Auror from Germany once who he thought might work out, but she hadn't been interested in much more than a few nights together and some good memories she could recall later in life, he supposed, and had returned swiftly once her exchange time had ended. That was more than a year ago. Both Ron and Hermione nagged him to try a little harder, but he was only twenty-two. There was plenty of time.

The noise level in the pub began go climb. Hank turned on the wireless in the corner, twisting the volume knob up until there was a hum of music playing under all the conversations. Harry moved himself up to the bar, abandoning his booth when a group of couples complained to Hank about the lack of seating. Ron's beer had been discarded.

Harry glanced at his watch and vowed that if Ron was more than an hour late and sent no word, Harry would just go home. It wasn't unheard of for Ron to get caught up in something and forget their pub night completely. Harry wasn't worried; his best friend could take care of himself.

The door chimed, but Harry didn't bother looking around. He finished off his drink and turned to go. But there was someone walking behind him and he rammed into her, nearly knocking them both over in his haste.

"Sorry!"

"Oh!"

They both looked at each other, slow smiles spreading.

"Harry?"

"Ginny, right?"

Awkward laughter followed as Harry tried to untangle himself from her without knocking her over further. He recognized her immediately, not only from the framed photos that Mrs. Weasley kept around the Burrow, but also the professional one in the back of her book-although that one had been in black and white.

"You grew your hair out." It slipped out and Harry bit his lip when her eyes went wide.

"Oh. Yeah, I did." She reached up and wrapped the end of her ponytail around her finger. "How did-"

"Your mum," Harry stammered. "SHe has your book at the Burrow. I like...I like to look at the pictures in it."

"Oh." Ginny smiled at him and nodded slowly. "You look...about the same as I'd remembered, only…"

"Older. Yeah."

They both laughed and Harry found that he wasn't all that annoyed anymore.

"Sorry!" Harry burst out. "You're probably here to meet someone. I didn't...I don't…" He gestured around, feeling embarrassed that he'd not only knocked her over, but was probably keeping her from a date, or friends, or someone.

"Not at all," Ginny said. "I was just...alone, actually. Feeling a bit sorry for myself. Thought I'd get a drink or two before heading home."

"Oh." Feeling like an idiot, Harry glanced toward his usual booth, but it was full. "I mean...did you...you could join me?"

There was still an open place at the bar where Harry had been sitting.

"Were you leaving?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head, then nodded. "No. I mean, well, yeah. I was waiting for Ron, but he must have forgotten, or fallen asleep or something, so…. I was thinking about leaving, but there's nothing home for me to do besides laundry."

Ginny smiled and Harry felt even stupider for going on and on.

"I'd like that," Ginny said. "To join you, I mean."

Harry pulled out a stool for her and signaled to Hank. "Er...first round's on me. What do you want?"

"Just a beer," Ginny said. "I miss beer."

Hank slid two tall glasses down the bar toward them and Harry watched as Ginny took a long drink from hers.

"Do they not have beer in France?"

She laughed. "No, they do. I just...well, to be honest, most of the places I have to go for work and such are a little too...fancy for beer. They serve wine and all sorts of fancy mixed drinks." She made a face and Harry laughed at the way her nose scrunched up. It was...cute.

"I usually just order whatever I see others drinking." She finished with a weak shrug and took another sip. "There are certain...expectations, I guess you could say, when you are in a visible profession. I mean, you'd think that because I'm behind the camera-"

"I know," Harry burst out. "I know exactly what you mean." And he did. There were always eyes watching him, waiting for him to make some mistake so they could splash it all over the tabloids, or the headlines in the Daily Prophet.

Ginny's face flushed. "Of course, you would."

"No, I mean…" Harry shook his head and ran his finger along the moisture collecting on the bar top. "But you can't let it stop you from living your life. At some point in time, you've got to tell yourself that...that it's okay if not everyone approves of what you're doing, that your life is your own."

"That's really...insightful, Harry." Her cheeks flamed and Harry was transported back in time, remembering how she would turn red and stammer around him when she was younger. He focused behind the bar at the rows of Hank's clean cups and sipped at his pint.

"You're...not what I expected."

Harry blinked. "What do you mean?"

Ginny turned to face him, spinning in her chair completely. Her knees brushed his thigh and Harry turned his head to look at her.

"I mean I guess all these years I've built up this whole idea of who you are-"

"Great."

But she smiled. "It's not all bad, I promise. And it's not all from the press clippings and such. I mean, Mum writes to me every week. And the others write here and there. Ron never stops talking about you-Hermione, either. It's like the sun rises and sets over Harry Potter." She finished with a wink and Harry felt his cheeks flame.

"I don't...that's not…." But he huffed and just looked at her. "That's not who I am."

"I know. That's what I'm saying. I mean, I guess it's no secret that I had a bit of a crush on you when I was younger."

Harry liked the way her cheeks still turned red.

"I'm sure it went away after you left."

"Quite the opposite, actually." She laughed and shook her head. "After you saved me, well...I was pretty obsessed for a few months. But then, I got to thinking that it wasn't really fair of me to put you in a place like that, even if it was in my own mind. I mean, you had flaws-"

Harry scoffed and drained the last of his pint. "Still do, I assure you."

"-and I wasn't around to put those into proper place in my mind. And...distance helped, I think."

"So you don't…" He trailed off, not sure the question was proper to ask. Ginny's feelings, whatever they were, were her own to share with him, if she wanted. He had no business prying.

A sly smile spread across her face. "Are you asking if I still fancy you?"

He coughed and glanced around at the busy pub. He hadn't even noticed the crowds coming and going. It was half full now, just stragglers, really left. "No! I mean, I guess I'm curious, but…"

"Don't worry, Harry. I've grown up since then." Her hand came up and rested on his arm and he glanced down at it. The urge to touch her, to take her hand in his was great, but he clasped his glass tighter. Why was he having these thoughts? He barely knew Ginny Weasley!

"Oh."

She let her hand slide away and finished off the last of her drink. Hank sent two more sliding toward them automatically. "Am I at all what you'd imagined?"

"No," Harry said before he could think. "I mean… Well, I guess it's the same sort of thing, in a way. I only have stories to go on, right? I could only build this idea of you from the few interactions we had-which I can vaguely remember after all these years-and the things that your Mum or Dad say when I'm around. Ron talks about you enough, I guess."

"I'm sure," Ginny scoffed. "He makes it very clear that he doesn't approve of my choices in life."

"He says you're too French."

They shared a look and a smile.

"Fried potatoes are too French for Ron," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"And the others, well...they don't really talk much about you, honestly. At least not to me."

Ginny got a strange smile on her face and shook her head. "Yeah, my family doesn't really know me at all anymore. I mean, I left when I was twelve. How could they?"

She had a point, Harry decided. She'd been gone from England during the entire war, and for several years after. He only remembered her as a vague idea, not as a person complete in herself. He'd saved her from the Chamber, but then she'd been whisked away hours later and he hadn't spoken to her since. He knew that various siblings, and even her parents, had gone to visit her. And she'd been home here and there-always missed by Harry for some reason-but she'd really immersed herself in where she lived.

The idea that she had a whole other life away from this place was rather shocking, actually, when he thought about it. She'd lived over there for so long that she had to have friends, speak the language fluently, know the best places to eat, know the shortcuts through the streets to get where she wanted to go. And she'd done it on her own.

A whole new appreciation for who Ginny Weasley was was blooming in his mind. Harry looked at her-really looked-and thought that even though she looked a lot the same, he barely recognized the girl he once knew. This new woman was whole with her own likes and dislikes, mannerisms, and personality. And he thought she was rather...beautiful.

"You said earlier that you were feeling sorry for yourself," he said. "Why?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Because it's Single's Awareness Day."

"What?"

"It's Valentine's Day, Harry. And I came to a pub alone."

He'd had no idea! When he thought about the day, it should have registered, he guessed, but there was really no way for him to judge those kinds of things.

"Oh. Yeah. I forgot."

"I was surprised when you said that Ron planned to meet you here tonight."

"It's Monday," Harry said. "We meet every Monday." Now that she said something, though, Harry did remember Ron saying something about Valentine's Day. Harry hadn't paid attention since it was just another day of the week for him. "I just got home," he said, as an excuse.

"From Spain," Ginny said with a nod. "Mum told me. She never stops talking about you, either."

The first awkward silence descended on them and they both looked around the room. Harry wasn't sure what to say to get them back to where they were comfortable talking. He ran through some Quidditch stories in his head, but discarded them quickly. He didn't know if Ginny even liked Quidditch or not.

"I thought you were seeing someone," he finally asked. "You shouldn't be alone on a day like today."

Ginny's brow furrowed. "Who said…? Nevermind. I'm sure Ron said something. I haven't seen anyone in ages, Harry. I mean, I date now and again, but…." She sighed.

"Why would he tell me that, then? Just last week when he told me you were coming home."

"Why does Ron do anything he does?" she scoffed. "I'm sorry. You probably think I'm too bitter. Ron is...well, he's Ron. He has these preconceived ideas in his head about who I should be and there's not a whole lot of room for me to wiggle in those shoes, if you know what I mean."

Harry thought about that and nodded slowly. "Yeah. I can see that."

"When he visited, he hated my flat, hated my roommate, complained about the food, didn't like the traffic, couldn't understand the language, thought everyone was rude, and couldn't even get a decent beer." Her eyebrow rose and Harry saw a bit of mischief there that reminded him of Fred and George. "Nothing we did was fun, and he didn't really even want to see anything. He refused to fly to the top of the Eiffel Tower, Harry!"

He could picture Ron crossing his arms in stubbornness and shaking his head when Ginny suggested it.

"I had hoped that maybe with him seeing that I liked it over there, that I was happy-at least for awhile-that he might stop telling me to come home, or regaling me with tales of everything that goes on back here. It's like he still sees me as this twelve year old kid who put their life on hold for eight years. He's allowed to grow up and change, but I'm expected to be exactly the same as I was when I left here. And when I did show him who I was, he didn't like it and wants me to change.

"I like who you are." Harry hadn't meant to say it out loud, but he was feeling a decent buzz from what he'd had to drink. He hadn't eaten anything before apparating to The Quiet Witch, and that probably didn't help. But, somehow, he thought that he might like Ginny Weasley even without the drinks softening his view.

"It's hot in here," she said, more to herself than to Harry, he thought.

"Do you want to get out of here? Go for a walk?" Harry pointed to the window, where they could see snow softly falling, blanketing the street.

"Yeah."

Harry paid Hank, settling both tabs, and helped Ginny slide her cloak on before putting his own over his shoulders. They didn't say anything more as they walked outside, both buttoning up tighter against the cold.

"I like the snow," Ginny said. She held out her hand and let a group of flakes land there, watching as the heat from her skin melted them. They fell along her shoulders, and on the knit hat she'd pulled on, too, little polka dots of white against the dark yarn.

They started walking, side by side, shoulders brushing now and again as they slipped and slid along the sidewalk.

"Did you really read my book?"

"Yeah. Several times. I thought about getting one for myself, too," Harry said. "Just haven't taken the time."

"They only published them in France," Ginny said. "That's why it's all in French. Bill helped me do a translation spell on Mum's. That's why it reads a little wonky." She kicked a little pile of snow out in front of them, laughing as it fluttered down into the pristine snow of the sidewalk, making little dimples.

"I wondered."

"I've got an extra one you can have."

"I'd like that."

"What...what do you like about it?"

Harry thought back to the photographs she'd taken, remembering the few that were his favorite. He'd spent long minutes staring at them, trying to decide why such ordinary things like lamp posts, buildings, and streets were so fascinating.

"It's the movement," he finally said.

"Harry!" Ginny wound her hand into the crook of his arm. "I purposely didn't charm them to move. It's one reason that Ron hates my work, I think."

"No, there's movement there," Harry said. "You just have to see it in your mind, not with magic. The one with the red flowers in the window box. In the edge of the frame, you can just see a bit of pale skin, like a hand reaching out toward the flowers. I just...I imagined a woman passing by, touching them as she passed."

"The photographs were black and white, Harry." She scolded him, but there was a pride in her tone, as if she was thrilled that maybe he could see something that she'd seen. "Magical Snapdragons. The woman there is the one who planted them. When you brush them, they snap at you and belch fire. She was showing me. I took the photograph just after they belched. I didn't want to show the magic."

"You wanted us to see it for ourselves." It made sense to Harry, but he'd also grown up muggle, understanding some things that Magical people took for granted.

"How did you know they were red?" Ginny leaned her head against his shoulder and Harry pulled her in closer to him, his arm going around her.

"I didn't, not for sure," he said. "I just...imagined it."

Ginny stopped walking and looked up at him, her lip caught between her teeth. "You're really not like anyone I've ever met before, Harry." There was a blazing look in her eyes and Harry felt himself lean forward, pressing his lips to hers.

She squeaked a little in surprise, but clung to him, matching his fervor.

"Do you mind?" Harry asked when they broke apart.

"That you kissed me?!" Ginny threw her head back in a full laugh. "Not at all. I was trying to find the right time to do it myself."

Harry felt a bit out of control, light headed and filled with more joy than he'd remembered feeling in a long time. He could hardly feel the cold outside anymore; he just felt warm where Ginny was pressed against him.

"I want to kiss you again," he said.

"What's stopping you?"

"We're in the middle of the sidewalk. Anyone could walk by." He tugged at a bit of red hair that stuck out of her cap, brushing his fingers along it.

"You know how to fix that, Harry." The look she gave him lit a fire deep down inside.

"My flat is a mess. I just got home today. Haven't unpacked at all."

"Mine is full of boxes. And a roommate."

"My place it is." He closed his eyes, trying to focus, and took her with him.

A shyness overcame Harry when they arrived. He let his arms fall away from her, and fumbled for her hand as she took it all in.

Questions rocketed in his mind like a Wildfire Whiz-bang. Did GInny mean what he thought she meant by coming here? Could they really…? And what would happen if they did?

"I like it." She gave a firm nod, approving his cramped flat. It wasn't much, but it was his own.

"It's a mess." He hoped she didn't mind the stacks of mail on the table, or the suitcase laying open in the middle of the hallway.

She tugged off her hat and cloak, dropping them on the end of the sofa before moving in closer, winding her hands past his cloak and clinging to him. "Harry, I didn't come to see your flat." Her breath was warm on his chin, her nose almost brushing his.

"Yeah?"

She initiated the kiss this time and Harry let himself follow, an intoxicating rush of feeling pulling him under. He felt her tongue brush his. He felt her fingers in the spaces between the yarn of his jumper, twisting in the cabling. He felt the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed against him. He felt all of her.

He took several steps, pushing her back toward the wall next to the fireplace. As lightheaded as he felt, he needed something solid to hold him up. Ginny continued kissing him, her hand rising up to bury in his hair, holding the back of his neck.

They only broke apart for air before continuing again.

"Are you drunk, Ginny?" Harry asked as he adjusted his skewed glasses.

"Not at all. Are you worried about my virtue, or yours?"

Harry thought about that for a moment, but her hands were doing wonderful things to him, and he decided that he just didn't care anymore. "Maybe both." He leaned in and kissed her again, burying his fingers in her hair.

Ginny pulled away just enough to speak. "No need to worry. You're safe with me."

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her. "Okay."

He woke up with Ginny still at his side, her face pressed into his bicep. She was curled toward him, the sheet and blanket wrapped in her arm as she slept. Her hair was a riot of color against the white sheets and Harry liked seeing it there. It reminded him of the red flowers in her photograph.

Last night had been brilliant. And early this morning, too.

There was something there between them that Harry had never experienced with anyone he'd ever dated-or even been interested in. A spark, he decided, for lack of a better word. And he had absolutely no idea where it was going to go, if anywhere, but for now, he was happy.

He closed his eyes and let the memories replay, seeing flashes of her pale, perfect skin in his mind. They'd had fun getting to know each other in so many different ways.

"Morning."

She peeked one eye open and smiled. Harry couldn't help but turn and gather her to him, tugging linens out of the way so that he could touch her again.

"Morning."

He felt like an idiot. A happy idiot. Staring at her, grinning, and feeling that same burning from last night down deep in his chest.

"Hungover?"

"Told you last night that I wasn't drunk." She arched and Harry snuck a peek as the sheet drifted lower, revealing more flesh to his hungry eyes.

"Good."

She rolled toward him, sliding her leg between his, her hand finding a home on his hip. "Do you have to work today?"

"Yeah."

Her lip came out in a small pout that he wanted to kiss away. There wasn't much of her that he didn't want to kiss, actually.

"That's the beauty of working for yourself, I guess," she said.

"What're you going to do now that you're home?" he asked. "I meant to ask last night, but…"

She grinned and ran her toes up the back of his calf. "Yeah, we got a little distracted,didn't we?"

The urge to get distracted again almost overtook Harry, but he felt a little greedy and tamped it back down.

"I want to do another book, honestly. One that actually sells better this time."

"I'd buy it."

"You don't even know what it's about," she protested. "What if it's nudes?"

Harry blinked at her, his mouth going dry. "Er…"

But Ginny just laughed. "It won't be. That's not my style." His fingers dug into her side and she squirmed, but didn't pull away. "I like architecture. Can you imagine a book about Hogwarts?" She hummed in absolute pleasure and Harry knew that he wanted to hear that sound over and over again.

"I'd buy it," he said. "A hundred of them."

"Is it weird how not weird this is?" Ginny asked. "I mean, we don't really know each other."

"Don't we?" Harry asked. "I feel like i've known you forever."

"Me too."

"And I don't know if it's weird or not. I don't do this often." He felt his face heat.

"Me either." Ginny pressed a kiss to his collarbone.

"And it's not like we have to define it," Harry said. "We have time."

It seemed like an unspoken understanding between them. This wasn't one night. And it wasn't a drunken mistake. It was something that they both wanted to explore, a connection that hadn't existed before she'd taken a seat next to him at the pub and they began talking.

"Ron's going to lose his mind." SHe sounded a little proud and Harry laughed.

"He and I have an...understanding. We don't talk about sex."

Ginny propped up on one elbow and looked down at him. "Because you don't want to hear-"

"Merlin, no!" Harry groaned. "Not a word. She's like my older sister."

"And Ron doesn't try to live vicariously through you?"

"He asks, sometimes," Harry said. "But I don't have that much to tell, I assure you. The scar either scares them away, or makes things too complicated."

Ginny glanced up, as if just remembering that the scar existed. She gave a little shrug of her shoulder. "I can see how that might be an issue."

"I'm not going to tell him a word," Harry said. "It's none of his business."

"I like that strategy."

They kissed, long and slow.

"You're going to be late for work."

"Don't care."

It was Monday again and Ron was adamant that he would be at the pub tonight. Harry hadn't brought up their missed meeting on Valentine's Day and neither had Ron. They'd both been busy with other things.

Harry had seen Ginny twice more this week. They'd shared dinner at a Muggle place not far from Harry's flat and he'd taken her to watch a film a few days later. It was casual, and comfortable, and completely brilliant.

She'd said that she might swing by The Quiet Witch tonight if she ever got more of her boxes unpacked, but she didn't sound hopeful when Harry had flooed her earlier.

The booth was full of their friends from Hogwarts, loud and sometimes rowdy. Hank kept their table full and even offered appetizers on the house. Harry was still trying to figure his angle, as Hank never gave anything away. He'd eyed the food dubiously, wondering what was slipped into it, while passing. So far, though, no one had had any serious side effects.

Ron was seated in the booth when Harry arrived, laughing at something Seamus had said. The others trickled in as the evening progressed.

"Where's Hermione tonight?" Harry asked.

"She went over to Ginny's new place," said Ron. "Helping to unpack boxes."

Seamus sat up straighter. "I heard your sister was back."

Ron glared at him. "I'm sure you did."

"Couple of the blokes from the office saw her the other day, said she was-"

"That's my baby sister you're thinking about there, Finnigan," Ron growled.

But the sandy-haired man just laughed. Harry remembered that he worked in the Wizengamot Administration Offices, just down the hall from Auror Headquarters. The blokes in there were known for being bigger gossips than the secretary pool.

"I remember Ginny," Neville said thoughtfully. "She was always nice to me."

They went around the table, giving vague memories that they had of Ginny. Harry kept his mouth shut. It was interesting to hear what they remembered about her.

"You're not really her type, anyway, Seamus," Ron said finally. "Right, Harry?"

Harry spluttered on his drink. "How would I know?" For a moment, he wondered if this was some sort of test that Ron was giving him. Had he heard about him and Ginny somehow? They weren't necessarily keeping it secret, just...private. They were happy with quietly exploring what might be between them without having the pressure of her family, or Merlin forbid, the press get wind of it.

They all stared at him. But ron just shook his head. "She dates European wizards," he said, his nose scrunched in distaste.

"Well, good for her," Neville said, holding up his pint in salute. The tips of his ears turned red and Harry appreciated, once more, how quietly brave Neville was.

The night went on with stories of their exploits at Hogwarts, things that their classmates were up to, and Quidditch. Always quidditch. Ron was sharing his latest moment of glory-a brilliant one-handed save that he swore was on purpose, but Harry was fairly sure was just dumb luck as Ron's arm had gotten caught on the hoop after a tricky evasion from his own team's bludger.

"This is the best part, Harry! You can't leave now!"

"I was there, Ron!" Harry scooted out of the booth, draining his drink before walking toward the loo in the back.

On the way back to the table, he stopped to talk to another Auror he occasionally worked with and her husband. When he made it back to his friends, whatever they were saying had died out and they were all staring at him. Harry glanced down to make sure his fly was up, and then scowled at them.

"What?

"Seamus was just telling us that you were late to work on Tuesday." Ron wore a smug grin that Harry wanted to hex right off his face.

He glanced at Seamus, who gave a helpless shrug. "You really have nothing better to do in that office, do you?"

"It's not like Robards kept his voice down. Your arguments are legendary. There's a betting pool on them."

Harry sighed and sank into his spot again. "So what if I was late?

"They were just speculating on why you were late," Dean said with a laugh.

Harry took a deep, steadying breath, weighing his options. He really didn't want to tell everyone why he was late. It was none of their business, just like he'd told Ginny. But he also wasn't ashamed of being with Ginny. In the end, their privacy won out and Harry vowed to keep his mouth shut.

"Had a lie in," he said simply. "Just got back the day before and I was tired."

"But you were here last week," Ron said. He rested his arms on the table, watching Harry from the other side.

Harry blinked at him. "Er…"

"Hank said you left your scarf."

Damn. He'd completely forgotten about his scarf. What else had Hank spilled while Harry was taking a piss?

"Yeah, I dropped by for a pint."

"Uh huh. On Valentine's Day?"

"Come on, Harry," Seamus said. "There are always witches interested everywhere you go."

Harry narrowed his eyes and sat back against the booth. "Really? I barely notice."

"You were late because you met someone," Ron said. "I think that's why."

"So what if I did?"

Ron leaned forward. "Was that an admission?"

"An admission of what?"

They all turned as Hermione and Ginny walked up, tugging at cloaks and removing their warm winter gear. The booth magically expanded, sliding outward to offer more seating. Hermione slipped in next to Ron, and Ginny took the spot next to Harry.

"Harry's seeing someone," Ron informed his fiancee. "He met her here on Valentine's Day and went home with her."

Harry felt Ginny's fingers brush his side and fought the urge to grasp them in his.

"Your theory," Harry pointed out. "A bloke can come to a pub by himself and leave alone, you know."

"Same for a witch," Ginny said with a smirk. "Or don't you favor equal rights, Ron?"

They all laughed and Harry wanted to kiss her. Granted, that would kill the whole privacy thing completely, but…

"You keep out of this, Miss Fancy Pants," Ron said, pointing at his sister. "I'm talking about Harry, not you."

"Ron!" Hermione turned on him and they began arguing.

"Thanks," Harry murmured to Ginny. "I owe you one."

"I'll collect later." Her hand glanced along his thigh and Harry fought the urge to raise his wand and summon the check from Hank so they could leave right now.

Ginny reached past him to the plate in the middle of the table, but Harry nudged it away. "I wouldn't," he murmured.

"What's wrong with it?"

"No clue, yet. But I have a feeling this is somehow connected to Fred and George and the feud they have going with Hank."

"Who's Hank?"

"The bartender," Harry said with a nod in Hank's direction. "He never gives free food, but he sent this whole plate over-a large order."

Ginny eyed it dubiously before giving a firm nod. "I'll trust your judgement, then."

"Probably wise. Nothing's happened just yet, but-"

"Oi!" Ron broke into their quiet conversation. "You'll tell her, but not me?"

"Tell me what, Ron?" Ginny said. Her cheeks were flushed, but not in a good way, Harry realized. She'd had just about enough of Ron's meddling in her life. He and Hermione exchanged a glance and then both shrugged, as if saying that whatever was going to happen was going to happen no matter if they stepped in or not.

And Harry wasn't about to stop Ginny from hexing Ron's bits off. He'd been far too patronizing and condescending lately.

"Since when do you two talk?" Ron kept on.

"Since when is it any of your business who I'm friends with, Ron?"

"It's not," he said. "You made that clear when you left for years and didn't come home."

"That's enough," Harry said, his voice raised. Other patrons in the pub turned to look, but Harry didn't care anymore. He wasn't about to let this family issue be dragged out in public. It was obvious that both Ron and Ginny needed to deal with the emotions and repercussions of Ginny's absence for the past eight years.

"Not here," he said. "And not tonight."

"Why don't we go play darts?" Hermione asked Ron. "You can try teaching me how again." She pulled ron out of the booth, chattering away. Ron went, reluctantly, but glanced over his shoulder at Ginny, who glared back at him.

"Well…"

"And that's enough from you, as well, Finnigan," Harry warned.

Seamus held up his hands in surrender, but grinned. "I was just going to say that I've had about all I can handle for the night. See you all next week." He motioned for Dean to follow him and they slid out of the booth.

Dean leaned down to Ginny just before leaving. "It's good to see you again. Maybe we can go out someday-"

"Thanks," Ginny said, "but I'm seeing someone."

Her hand found Harry's on the bench and twined their fingers together, giving a little silent acknowledgement to him.

"Can't blame a guy for trying," Dean said with a laugh. He turned and followed Seamus out.

"I think I'm going to head out, too," Neville said. He gave both Harry and Ginny a thoughtful look before scooting out past them. "It was good to see you, Ginny."

"Are you going to ask me out, too, Neville?"

He paled and stammered for a moment before Ginny just laughed. "I'm teasing."

"Okay. Well, goodnight."

They watched him go, Ginny leaning into Harry's side. The booth had shrunk back to a cozy size, allowing them to sit together without drawing too much attention to their status as a couple.

"How soon can we go?" Ginny asked.

"Had enough already?"

She nodded. "Ron." It was all that needed to be said and Harry wanted to wrap his arms around her, hold her until she wasn't worried about her brother's prattish ways any longer, but they were still in public.

"He'll come around."

"When I'm forty," she grumbled.

"Maybe by then."

They shared a smile.

"You didn't tell them."

"None of their business," Harry reminded her.

"Yeah."

"But you should probably deal with this Ron situation before it gets out of hand."

"Not tonight," she said. Leaning in closer, she pressed a kiss to his neck. "Is it okay if I just want to go home with you and forget it all happened?"

"Check please?!"

A month of pub nights passed. Ginny kept her distance when Ron was around, but that was the only part of Harry's life that wasn't brilliant. He was the happiest he'd ever been and he was not afraid to say that he was head over heels in love with Ginny, already. He wasn't looking forward to another exchange he was set to make that would take him away for three weeks coming up soon. He'd argued with the Director, but given in when Robards promised it was the last one for the entire year, if Harry would just go.

Ginny had laughed at his grumbling about it, and promised that they'd be fine. She was just going to begin work on her new book, having received permission to delve into the architecture at Hogwarts. She promised that the next month she wouldn't be available much anyway, since she would be knee-deep in library research as she tried to suss out all of the history of the castle-beyond what _Hogwarts: A Histor_ y could tell her.

Unbeknownst to Ginny, Harry was planning a trip away for the two of them when he got back. It wasn't something lavish, just a weekend in Ireland at a little bed and breakfast where they could be together in public and not have to worry about who was watching.

The privacy thing was beginning to wear on them both and Harry was planning to talk to Ginny over their trip to see about coming clean with everyone.

"No lady friend tonight?"

Harry had chosen to sit at the bar tonight, rather than their usual booth. And he hadn't ordered Ron a pint this time.

"You never give up, do you?"

Ron laughed and slid onto the stool next to him. "One day you'll tell me."

Harry sighed and shook his head slowly. "One day you might listen."

"Hank confirmed it for me, Harry."

Hank sidled by, his stooped shoulders bouncing up and down as he plodded by. "Did not."

Harry just laughed. Hank might see everything that went on in his pub, but he kept his mouth shut. Another reason that Harry liked coming here.

"Fine." Ron tapped his fist on the bar, signaling that he wanted to order his drink. "Don't tell me. I don't understand you, Harry. You usually tell me everything."

"The things I don't tell you, Ron, could fill a library." Harry raised an eyebrow as Ron pondered that thought. "You don't know everything about my life. And I don't know everything about yours, thank Merlin. That's why we stay friends."

Ron laughed. "Point."

They drank in relative silence, commenting here or there on things that had happened throughout the week. Chudley had won a fairly convincing victory over the Kestrals and were enjoying a well-deserved week off before they would be flattened by the Arrows and Harpies. Ron commiserted their chances already by ordering a firewhiskey and toasting to the mostly empty pub.

"Don't forget I'm off for a few weeks," Harry said when they were gathering their things after just two pints together.

"Honeymoon?"

Harry ignored the barb. "Exchange. Be back in about a month."

"Floo me when you get in. We'll get together again. Hey, Harry, I know I tease you about it, but I really do hope you're happy."

The smile couldn't be helped. "I am, Ron."

Ireland had been amazing. Harry had followed along as Ginny snapped photograph after photograph, laughing at the way she got almost manically excited over the curve of a wall, or the buttress of a church. He may not understand it all, but he loved the way her eyes flashed and the way she saw things that not everyone did.

He'd told her he loved her-the first time saying the words-and she'd reciprocated. Harry once lamented that he could never understand how his parents could have fallen in love, gotten married, and decided to have him in the middle of a war. Now that he understood the depth of love-and, really, he knew they were just scratching the surface-Harry had a deeper appreciation for what his parents' had gone through and the reason that love was such a powerful force.

They'd also decided that it was time to start letting people know that they were together as a couple. Slowly, and on their terms.

Harry had come back from his exchange and left his luggage in the middle of his living room, grabbed another pre-packed bag and apparated straight to Ginny's to whisk her away. And the weekend had been perfect. He didn't want it to end.

"You're sure we have to separate?"

Ginny laughed and clung to the lapels of his cloak. "We've just spent the past seventy-two hours together, Harry. And I do love you, but I need to get my laundry going, and pay my rent. And my first official visit to Hogwarts is tomorrow morning."

They were wrapped around each other in the far corner booth at The Quiet Witch. It wasn't even half-past five in the afternoon yet, and the pub was completely empty. It was rainy outside and the windows were fogged over, leaving a sort of dreamy quality to the evening

"You were there almost every day I was gone."

"For research, yes, and to plan out my shots. But I'm going to actually start photographing tomorrow."

Harry tucked a bit of her hair behind her ear and didn't stop himself from nuzzling the curve of her neck. "It's going to be amazing. A best-seller."

Ginny wrapped her arms around his head and swung her legs onto his lap under the table. "Only if I'm not too bleary-eyed to take the photos. We barely got any sleep, remember?"

Harry hummed in satisfaction and tugged at the end of her ponytail. "You weren't complaining."

"You are completely wicked. And that's why I love you." She kissed him, and even though they were in public, where anyone could walk in, Harry reminded himself that he'd chosen the back corner for a reason. It was darker, half-hidden in shadow and almost impossible to see from the front of the pub.

"Okay," he sighed, but he didn't move at all, and he didn't stop kissing her.

"OI!"

Harry disengaged from Ginny, peering back over his shoulder to see Ron, Fred and George standing just feet from them. He hadn't even heard the bell on the door, he realized. He glanced at Ginny to find her completely disheveled, pressed up against the foggy window. He could see his own handprint there in the mist, just above where Ginny's head had been.

"Ron, listen...I can explain."

But Ron's flashing gaze settled on his sister, instead. "That's my best friend!"

Fred and George exchanged looks before breaking out into wide grins. "What do you think, Georgie?"

"I'd give it a solid nine."

"Eight point five," Fred responded.

Harry straightened himself and tried to figure out what was going on. Ginny, surprisingly, didn't flinch. She ran her fingers over her hair to smooth it back from where Harry had ruffled it, and stared at her brothers.

"I know you warned me to stay away from him, Ron-"

"What?" Harry's neck actually popped when he whipped back around to gape at her. "Since when-"

"-but we're in love."

Ron's mouth hung open, as if he couldn't quite process what he'd seen.

"Well we, for one-"

"-are happy," George said.

"As long as you're both happy."

Harry turned back to Ron. "What do you mean you warned her to stay away from me?"

"I just...I mean…" Ron threw his hand up toward his sister. "She's Ginny."

Harry forced himself to stay seated and he placed his hands on the table so he wouldn't be too tempted to hex Ron into next week.

"Yeah, that's why I love her."

"How long…" Ron shook his head. "Don't tell me this is Miss Valentine's."

"The one and only." Ginny grinned and slid closer to Harry. Harry slipped his arm around her shoulders before kissing her.

"And you've been…" He trailed off and made a sickened face. "You were late to work the next day."

Harry would have spilled the beans about how brilliant Ginny was in bed, but he was fairly sure tonight's revelations were about all that Ron could handle.

"I warned you to stay out of my love life," he said. "I thank you for your concern, but I'm doing just fine. And Ginny is nothing less than brilliant. And I love her. So, sod off, Ron, if that bothers you."

Ron's eyes widened and he blinked rapidly several times. "I…" He turned to look at Ginny. "You told Mum that it was serious with the bloke you were seeing."

The thought made Harry's chest puff out just a bit and he kissed Ginny again.

"It is," Ginny said simply. "You and I have a whole lot to figure out, Ron. You don't know me anymore, isn't that what you said? Well, know that I stick by my convictions. I don't make commitments that I'm not all in for. And I don't love easily." She looked at Harry and then back at her brother. "It's serious."

"Good enough for us." George slapped Ron on the shoulder. "Let's get a pint, shall we?"

"Hey! What're you two doin' in here?!"

Harry and Ginny both broke out in laughter as Hank came out of the back room and found the twins and Ron standing in his pub.

"Serious, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I could get used to that."

"Pretty sure you're going to have to. You heard what I told the prat. I don't love easily."

"It seemed pretty easy to me."

Ginny pinched his side and kissed him.

"Are you okay with serious?"

"Deliriously happy, my love."

Ron got used to them being together over the next year, and he started to work through his issues with Ginny, too. Harry knew that they'd met together on their own a few times. He didn't pry for details, but sometimes they would come bursting out of Ginny while they sat on the sofa, or while they prepared dinner together.

Weekly pub nights had faded into the past after The Great Revelation, as Fred and George called it. Harry missed them, but he and Ginny made sure to frequent The Quiet Witch often to support Hank and get out of their routines. Occasionally, others would appear and spend an enjoyable evening with the couple. Ron kept his distance for a couple of months before he began to come around more and more.

The Weasley's were over the moon when Harry and Ginny appeared at the Burrow together and announced their relationship. They'd even opened some good champagne that had been hidden in the back of the cupboard-"for a rainy day, dears-and toasted to love.

Valentine's Day rolled around again and Ginny surprised Harry this time with a two-week trip to France. He'd only been for a few prisoner transfers and official meetings, and had never stepped foot outside the Ministry.

Ginny showed him all of her favorite haunts and spots to see. They made out in little cafes all over the countryside, made love in a dozen different bed and breakfast rooms as they traveled ate far too much food, drank far too much wine, and had the time of their lives. Harry found that he was pants at speaking anything other than English, but he loved hearing Ginny rattle off phrases in French. And despite thinking it was impossible, he fell even more madly in love with her.

"Nobody will be here," Ginny warned as they hurried down the street to the pub. It was dumping rain, soaking past their waterproofing spells into their cloaks.

"Doesn't matter," Harry said. He clung to her hand and helped her jump over a large puddle in the sidewalk. "This is where it all started for us."

They ducked inside, surprised to see that nearly all the booths were full.

"Wow. I didn't expect…" Harry shook his wet hair and pushed it back from his forehead. Ginny pulled off her cloak and hung both of theirs on the full rack near the doorway.

"Over here!"

Their usual booth was packed-magically extended to its maximum size-and filled with almost all of their friends and family.

Harry and Ginny greeted everyone with handshakes, hugs, and slaps on the back before being ushered into a spot. Hank floated over another couple of rounds, keeping a dubious watch from under his thick eyebrows on the twins. Their ban had been lifted, but Hank warned them that if they ever brought any of their products into the pub he'd have them arrested. He didn't know what the charges would be, but he'd think something up. Harry had offered to do the honors, if necessary.

Harry was listening to Seamus go on about someone at the ministry when he overheard Hermione and Ginny's conversation.

"-you get back?"

"Yesterday," said Ginny.

"And was it just amazing?"

Ginny caught Harry's eye and winked at him. "Everything I could have hoped for."

"Oh, France is my favorite place."

"Yeah, if you like all that French stuff," Ron grumbled.

"Well, I do, Ronald Weasley."

Ron's eyes widened at his wife's snap and he sank just a little lower in the seat and sipped at his beer.

"How's the book doing, Ginny?" Neville asked from the far end of the table. "Gran loves her copy. And she can't stop talking about how you brought her Hogwarts days back to her."

Ginny lifted her drink in his direction. "Sold out the first printing," she said. A low cheer rippled along the table and Harry felt his chest expand with pride again.

"Did you really like all that French stuff?" Ron asked as he leaned across the table toward Harry. "Even the food?"

"Even the food," said Harry.

Ron thought about that, his face scrunched in thought. "What about-"

"Everything, Ron."

"Oh."

Hermione's squeal of delight drew their attention and Harry felt like the buttons on his robes might just burst. His friend was flailing and waiving about, throwing her arms around Ginny and laughing. She clasped GInny's left hand tightly, showing everyone around the table.

"They're getting married!"

Cheers went up and Hank immediately appeared, hovering near the table, lest he be allowed to demand Fred and George's removal for disturbing his pub. Harry waved him off amidst being mobbed by friends with congratulations and staggering slugs to the shoulders. Eventually, the ruckus settled down, Hank began breathing again, and Harry was allowed to sit next to Ginny, his fiancee, again.

"Wow. That's…" Ron was looking between the two of them, cogs in his mind turning.

"Aren't you happy for them, Ron?"

He blinked at Hermione and gave a slow nod. "Sure."

"Tell me all about it!" Hermione demanded. "When did he ask? How? Did he get down on one knee? Was it romantic? Oh, I'll bet it was romantic."

Harry laughed at her exuberance and nudged Ginny in the shoulder, indicating that it was up to her to tell the tale.

"Well, it was our last night in Paris," she said. "And we flew up to the top of the Eiffel Tower..."

Harry glanced at Ron, to see him staring down at the table, deep in thought.

"Alright, Ron?" He kicked his friend under the table and Ron looked up at him.

"Yeah. Yeah. Alright." Slowly, a smile spread across his face. "As long as you're both happy."

"We are."

"Okay."

They shared a smile before Harry's attention was drawn back as Hermione asked him all about buying the ring.


	2. Naughty Pub Nights

A/N: This one-shot was written to be part of the Valentine's Day fiction contest over on tumblr and reddit. Please enjoy.

This is the smutty version of the other chapter, so there's a lot that's the same. Thank you for reading, and please review!

They had a standing date to meet at the pub. Every other Monday evening there was a table reserved for them at The Quiet Witch. Nobody bothered them there, and Harry didn't have to hide his face or feel like he should use Polyjuice just to have a pint.

The pub was not as popular as the Leaky Cauldron, or the Three Broomsticks, but Harry liked it better. Fewer crowds, and it was clean enough, as far as pubs went. The best part was, the owners didn't care who he was and had never once asked him to use his name or face for advertising. As far as he knew, the same witches and wizards who frequented the pub before he started coming were the same ones that continued coming after he'd made it a regular haunt.

Ron was late, but then he usually was. Harry had gotten used to it and just ordered his pint at the same time. Ron had never complained that his beer was warm. Occasionally, another friend would join them-Hermione, Seamus, Dean, or even Neville. They would laugh and joke about old times and were rarely serious, which is exactly what they all needed.

The Weasley Twins had come once, but after a rather raucous game of wizarding darts had been forever banned. They seemed to take it as a compliment and reciprocally banned the owner of The Quiet Witch, Hank, from their shop in Diagon Alley. There was a sort of ongoing, although good-natured, feud going on between them. Harry tried not to know details and did his best to just stay out of the way of it all.

Tonight Hermione was going to visit her parents-something she did often on their pub nights-and Ron had already told Harry that he planned to get completely pissed. He had the day off tomorrow and said he'd earned it by listening to Oliver Wood scream at him from the sidelines for six hours today.

Although they'd planned to enter Auror training together, when the offer to play backup Keeper for Ron's beloved Chudley Cannons had come, Ron had jumped at the chance. And Harry didn't blame him. If he'd had any idea what he was getting into by joining the Ministry, he might have taken another job offer-any job!

"Good, you're already here," Ron said as he reached over the back of the seat Harry was sitting in to snatch his pint off the table. He drank deep and long before wiping the froth off his upper lip. "Order me another while I visit the loo, will you?"

Harry just laughed and waved his friend on. He signaled Hank to order. The rail-thin, extremely tall man with huge, bushy eyebrows sent another couple of pints zooming his way.

When Ron joined him, Harry and he just stared at each other before cracking up. Both were completely disheveled. Harry glanced down at himself-a mess from his mission over the past several days-and then at Ron, who looked as if he'd been flying drills in a hurricane.

"Undercover mission," Harry grumbled. "Been three days without a shower, ate stale food from a tin, slept on the ground."

Their game of one-up-manship was another tradition, ever since their Divination days.

Ron just scoffed. "You've not had Bloody Oliver Wood losing his mind on the sidelines, screaming at you all day. Injured reserve, my arse. Ran four sets of stairs. Drills until my arms are ready to fall off. Quaffle to the head at least four times."

Like always, they let the comparisons die on the table. Both had been through enough over the past years that there was no competitiveness left in the friendship, despite what it might look like from the outside.

"Wood rides your arse like Robards rides mine," Harry said.

Ron made a face. Harry and Auror Director Robards hadn't gotten along since Harry's first day in training and their head-butting arguments were a thing of legend in the Ministry. Harry threatened to quit at least three times a year, and was probably fired more times than he knew. But the Ministry was sticking to his magically signed contract and no argument was going to override any of it. Harry was stuck.

And he loved the job, just not who he worked with.

"How's the kid?"

Harry smiled. Teddy was the highlight of his life and the best part of his days, when he got to spend time with the boy. "He's great."

"Learn to fly yet?"

"Almost," said Harry. "Andromeda let me actually take him up the other day, not just on the hovering broom. He loved it, like I knew he would."

Ron sipped at his drink and sunk lower in the booth, finally relaxing. "Yeah, well we both knew he would. She just needs to lighten up. You're not going to get him killed or anything."

Harry snorted and drank from his own glass. "Yeah, well…." Andromeda Tonks had not been thrilled when Harry had shown up at her door not long after the Final Battle and told her that Remus had named him as Godfather to little Teddy. In fact, Andromeda had slammed the door in his face. It had taken Harry several weeks of returning and making all sorts of promises for her to give in and let him inside.

"I don't really blame her," he said. "She's lost so much. Teddy is all she has left."

Ron made a face and signalled to Hank, ordering Firewhisky instead of just beer. He also pointed to a few things on the menu and received a wave that promised they would be out soon.

"How's Hermione?"

"Lost her mind," Ron grumbled. "If I'd known what I was getting into by proposing…"

"You'd have still done it."

"Yeah, probably."

They shared a look and laughed. Harry had been over to their place and seen Hermione's copious charts detailing everything that needed to be accomplished before the wedding. She was determined that everything would be perfectly in place long before their date drew close.

"And the family?"

"Good," Ron grunted. "Bill sent a picture of his new girlfriend. She's pretty."

"That's nice."

"Oh! I just remembered. Mum said that Ginny is moving back."

"Really?" Harry sat up slightly. Ginny Weasley was a complete mystery, of sorts. Immediately following Harry's rescue from the Chamber of Secrets, she'd been whisked away by the Ministry and shipped off to Beauxbatons. None of it made sense to Harry, but somehow they'd convinced Molly and Arthur that it was for Ginny's best interest and safety to get her far from Hogwarts where the memories of her possession by Tom Riddle might haunt her and do irreparable damage.

The nasty press coverage directed by the Malfoy family hadn't helped things. They'd never been able to prove for sure, but Harry was convinced that it was Lucius Malfoy who planted the diary with Ginny.

Ginny had spent the remainder of her school years in France, and, according to Ron and Mrs. Weasley, she'd spent several more years there with some sort of art internship or other. Harry was a little fuzzy on the details. He hadn't even seen Ginny in all the years of being friends with the Weasleys. They were meant to spend several Christmases together, but things seemed to always come up-a training mission for Harry, some exhibit that Ginny needed to take part in. He'd even seen some of her work-Mrs. Weasley had a published book sitting on one of the end tables at the Burrow with Ginny's photography in it. Harry'd thumbed through it a time or two, in awe of the shots she got from all over the world.

"What's bringing her back here?"

"No clue," Ron said with a shrug. "You know Ginny, always off to some place or other. She'll never settle down."

Harry wanted to point out that he didn't know Ginny at all, but it was a moot point. Ron usually got agitated when anyone talked about Ginny, and Harry wasn't in the mood to put up with it, so he let it go.

"Last I heard she was dating some bloke over there. I went over for that World Quidditch Conference last year, and it was just...strange."

Harry nodded, remembering how out of sorts Ron had been about it all. It had taken him several weeks to get over the trip, and Harry never really figured out why.

"She's just so...French now," he grumbled.

"Well, yeah," Harry said. "She's lived over there for more than eight years. I'd imagine some of the culture rubbed off."

"I couldn't even understand her." Ron scowled into his drink. "And she took me around to all these fancy places." He shook his head. "I didn't even recognize her anymore."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. He had no insight into siblings or their interactions with each other. After all these years, the Weasley siblings still mystified him. The closest he got was his friendship with Hermione, but she sometimes came off more like a mother than a sibling, at least with him.

"So, you plan Portree next week?"

Ron sat up, his face brightening. "Yeah. Oh, it's going to be a great game, Harry. You should get the day off so you can come. Their seeker-"

Three weeks later, Harry was back in the pub, glancing at his watch, still waiting for Ron to arrive. Harry had been sent to Spain for an Auror exchange at the last minute and missed not only two pub nights, but several Weasley Family Dinners, too. He'd just gotten back to England today and was still out of sorts from all the travel.

The place was suspiciously empty and Hank, the owner, was the only one in the place. He whistled the same annoying tune over and over while polishing glasses one right after the other.

"Rather quiet tonight."

Hank just grunted and kept on whistling. Harry continued to sip at his pint, eyeing Ron's which was getting steadily warmer.

After twenty minutes, a group of young wizards showed up. They gave Harry's booth a quick glance, but paid him little mind as they took over a corner and continued their conversation. Harry had half a mind to leave, but with nothing to go home to even that prospect sounded bleak. He hadn't even unpacked before coming straight to the pub.

Forty minutes and Harry had drained three drinks himself. He'd left Ron's original pint full on the table out of spite.

Several other groups had come in, including a few witches who paid a little more attention to Harry. He wasn't interested, mostly because it sounded like so much work to chat someone up and try to determine if they were impressed by him or the scar. Harry dated, just not often, and he'd never had someone he could really call a girlfriend.

There was a visiting Auror from Germany once who he thought might work out, but she hadn't been interested in much more than a few nights together and some good memories she could recall later in life, he supposed, and had returned swiftly once her exchange time had ended. That was more than a year ago. Both Ron and Hermione nagged him to try a little harder, but he was only twenty-two. There was plenty of time.

The noise level in the pub began go climb. Hank turned on the wireless in the corner, twisting the volume knob up until there was a hum of music playing under all the conversations. Harry moved himself up to the bar, abandoning his booth when a group of couples complained to Hank about the lack of seating. Ron's beer had been discarded.

Harry glanced at his watch and vowed that if Ron was more than an hour late and sent no word, Harry would just go home. It wasn't unheard of for Ron to get caught up in something and forget their pub night completely. Harry wasn't worried; his best friend could take care of himself.

The door chimed, but Harry didn't bother looking around. He finished off his drink and turned to go. But there was someone walking behind him and he rammed into her, nearly knocking them both over in his haste.

"Sorry!"

"Oh!"

They both looked at each other, slow smiles spreading.

"Harry?"

"Ginny, right?"

Awkward laughter followed as Harry tried to untangle himself from her without knocking her over further. He recognized her immediately, not only from the framed photos that Mrs. Weasley kept around the Burrow, but also the professional one in the back of her book-although that one had been in black and white.

"You grew your hair out." It slipped out and Harry bit his lip when her eyes went wide.

"Oh. Yeah, I did." She reached up and wrapped the end of her ponytail around her finger. "How did-"

"Your mum," Harry stammered. "SHe has your book at the Burrow. I like...I like to look at the pictures in it."

"Oh." Ginny smiled at him and nodded slowly. "You look...about the same as I'd remembered, only…"

"Older. Yeah."

They both laughed and Harry found that he wasn't all that annoyed anymore.

"Sorry!" Harry burst out. "You're probably here to meet someone. I didn't...I don't…" He gestured around, feeling embarrassed that he'd not only knocked her over, but was probably keeping her from a date, or friends, or someone.

"Not at all," Ginny said. "I was just...alone, actually. Feeling a bit sorry for myself. Thought I'd get a drink or two before heading home."

"Oh." Feeling like an idiot, Harry glanced toward his usual booth, but it was full. "I mean...did you...you could join me?"

There was still an open place at the bar where Harry had been sitting.

"Were you leaving?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head, then nodded. "No. I mean, well, yeah. I was waiting for Ron, but he must have forgotten, or fallen asleep or something, so…. I was thinking about leaving, but there's nothing home for me to do besides laundry."

Ginny smiled and Harry felt even stupider for going on and on.

"I'd like that," Ginny said. "To join you, I mean."

Harry pulled out a stool for her and signaled to Hank. "Er...first round's on me. What do you want?"

"Just a beer," Ginny said. "I miss beer."

Hank slid two tall glasses down the bar toward them and Harry watched as Ginny took a long drink from hers.

"Do they not have beer in France?"

She laughed. "No, they do. I just...well, to be honest, most of the places I have to go for work and such are a little too...fancy for beer. They serve wine and all sorts of fancy mixed drinks." She made a face and Harry laughed at the way her nose scrunched up. It was...cute.

"I usually just order whatever I see others drinking." She finished with a weak shrug and took another sip. "There are certain...expectations, I guess you could say, when you are in a visible profession. I mean, you'd think that because I'm behind the camera-"

"I know," Harry burst out. "I know exactly what you mean." And he did. There were always eyes watching him, waiting for him to make some mistake so they could splash it all over the tabloids, or the headlines in the Daily Prophet.

Ginny's face flushed. "Of course, you would."

"No, I mean…" Harry shook his head and ran his finger along the moisture collecting on the bar top. "But you can't let it stop you from living your life. At some point in time, you've got to tell yourself that...that it's okay if not everyone approves of what you're doing, that your life is your own."

"That's really...insightful, Harry." Her cheeks flamed and Harry was transported back in time, remembering how she would turn red and stammer around him when she was younger. He focused behind the bar at the rows of Hank's clean cups and sipped at his pint.

"You're...not what I expected."

Harry blinked. "What do you mean?"

Ginny turned to face him, spinning in her chair completely. Her knees brushed his thigh and Harry turned his head to look at her.

"I mean I guess all these years I've built up this whole idea of who you are-"

"Great."

But she smiled. "It's not all bad, I promise. And it's not all from the press clippings and such. I mean, Mum writes to me every week. And the others write here and there. Ron never stops talking about you-Hermione, either. It's like the sun rises and sets over Harry Potter." She finished with a wink and Harry felt his cheeks flame.

"I don't...that's not…." But he huffed and just looked at her. "That's not who I am."

"I know. That's what I'm saying. I mean, I guess it's no secret that I had a bit of a crush on you when I was younger."

Harry liked the way her cheeks still turned red.

"I'm sure it went away after you left."

"Quite the opposite, actually." She laughed and shook her head. "After you saved me, well...I was pretty obsessed for a few months. But then, I got to thinking that it wasn't really fair of me to put you in a place like that, even if it was in my own mind. I mean, you had flaws-"

Harry scoffed and drained the last of his pint. "Still do, I assure you."

"-and I wasn't around to put those into proper place in my mind. And...distance helped, I think."

"So you don't…" He trailed off, not sure the question was proper to ask. Ginny's feelings, whatever they were, were her own to share with him, if she wanted. He had no business prying.

A sly smile spread across her face. "Are you asking if I still fancy you?"

He coughed and glanced around at the busy pub. He hadn't even noticed the crowds coming and going. It was half full now, just stragglers, really left. "No! I mean, I guess I'm curious, but…"

"Don't worry, Harry. I've grown up since then." Her hand came up and rested on his arm and he glanced down at it. The urge to touch her, to take her hand in his was great, but he clasped his glass tighter. Why was he having these thoughts? He barely knew Ginny Weasley!

"Oh."

She let her hand slide away and finished off the last of her drink. Hank sent two more sliding toward them automatically. "Am I at all what you'd imagined?"

"No," Harry said before he could think. "I mean… Well, I guess it's the same sort of thing, in a way. I only have stories to go on, right? I could only build this idea of you from the few interactions we had-which I can vaguely remember after all these years-and the things that your Mum or Dad say when I'm around. Ron talks about you enough, I guess."

"I'm sure," Ginny scoffed. "He makes it very clear that he doesn't approve of my choices in life."

"He says you're too French."

They shared a look and a smile.

"Fried potatoes are too French for Ron," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"And the others, well...they don't really talk much about you, honestly. At least not to me."

Ginny got a strange smile on her face and shook her head. "Yeah, my family doesn't really know me at all anymore. I mean, I left when I was twelve. How could they?"

She had a point, Harry decided. She'd been gone from England during the entire war, and for several years after. He only remembered her as a vague idea, not as a person complete in herself. He'd saved her from the Chamber, but then she'd been whisked away hours later and he hadn't spoken to her since. He knew that various siblings, and even her parents, had gone to visit her. And she'd been home here and there-always missed by Harry for some reason-but she'd really immersed herself in where she lived.

The idea that she had a whole other life away from this place was rather shocking, actually, when he thought about it. She'd lived over there for so long that she had to have friends, speak the language fluently, know the best places to eat, know the shortcuts through the streets to get where she wanted to go. And she'd done it on her own.

A whole new appreciation for who Ginny Weasley was was blooming in his mind. Harry looked at her-really looked-and thought that even though she looked a lot the same, he barely recognized the girl he once knew. This new woman was whole with her own likes and dislikes, mannerisms, and personality. And he thought she was rather...beautiful.

"You said earlier that you were feeling sorry for yourself," he said. "Why?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Because it's Single's Awareness Day."

"What?"

"It's Valentine's Day, Harry. And I came to a pub alone."

He'd had no idea! When he thought about the day, it should have registered, he guessed, but there was really no way for him to judge those kinds of things.

"Oh. Yeah. I forgot."

"I was surprised when you said that Ron planned to meet you here tonight."

"It's Monday," Harry said. "We meet every Monday." Now that she said something, though, Harry did remember Ron saying something about Valentine's Day. Harry hadn't paid attention since it was just another day of the week for him. "I just got home," he said, as an excuse.

"From Spain," Ginny said with a nod. "Mum told me. She never stops talking about you, either."

The first awkward silence descended on them and they both looked around the room. Harry wasn't sure what to say to get them back to where they were comfortable talking. He ran through some Quidditch stories in his head, but discarded them quickly. He didn't know if Ginny even liked Quidditch or not.

"I thought you were seeing someone," he finally asked. "You shouldn't be alone on a day like today."

Ginny's brow furrowed. "Who said…? Nevermind. I'm sure Ron said something. I haven't seen anyone in ages, Harry. I mean, I date now and again, but…." She sighed.

"Why would he tell me that, then? Just last week when he told me you were coming home."

"Why does Ron do anything he does?" she scoffed. "I'm sorry. You probably think I'm too bitter. Ron is...well, he's Ron. He has these preconceived ideas in his head about who I should be and there's not a whole lot of room for me to wiggle in those shoes, if you know what I mean."

Harry thought about that and nodded slowly. "Yeah. I can see that."

"When he visited, he hated my flat, hated my roommate, complained about the food, didn't like the traffic, couldn't understand the language, thought everyone was rude, and couldn't even get a decent beer." Her eyebrow rose and Harry saw a bit of mischief there that reminded him of Fred and George. "Nothing we did was fun, and he didn't really even want to see anything. He refused to fly to the top of the Eiffel Tower, Harry!"

He could picture Ron crossing his arms in stubbornness and shaking his head when Ginny suggested it.

"I had hoped that maybe with him seeing that I liked it over there, that I was happy-at least for awhile-that he might stop telling me to come home, or regaling me with tales of everything that goes on back here. It's like he still sees me as this twelve year old kid who put their life on hold for eight years. He's allowed to grow up and change, but I'm expected to be exactly the same as I was when I left here. And when I did show him who I was, he didn't like it and wants me to change.

"I like who you are." Harry hadn't meant to say it out loud, but he was feeling a decent buzz from what he'd had to drink. He hadn't eaten anything before apparating to The Quiet Witch, and that probably didn't help. But, somehow, he thought that he might like Ginny Weasley even without the drinks softening his view.

"It's hot in here," she said, more to herself than to Harry, he thought.

"Do you want to get out of here? Go for a walk?" Harry pointed to the window, where they could see snow softly falling, blanketing the street.

"Yeah."

Harry paid Hank, settling both tabs, and helped Ginny slide her cloak on before putting his own over his shoulders. They didn't say anything more as they walked outside, both buttoning up tighter against the cold.

"I like the snow," Ginny said. She held out her hand and let a group of flakes land there, watching as the heat from her skin melted them. They fell along her shoulders, and on the knit hat she'd pulled on, too, little polka dots of white against the dark yarn.

They started walking, side by side, shoulders brushing now and again as they slipped and slid along the sidewalk.

"Did you really read my book?"

"Yeah. Several times. I thought about getting one for myself, too," Harry said. "Just haven't taken the time."

"They only published them in France," Ginny said. "That's why it's all in French. Bill helped me do a translation spell on Mum's. That's why it reads a little wonky." She kicked a little pile of snow out in front of them, laughing as it fluttered down into the pristine snow of the sidewalk, making little dimples.

"I wondered."

"I've got an extra one you can have."

"I'd like that."

"What...what do you like about it?"

Harry thought back to the photographs she'd taken, remembering the few that were his favorite. He'd spent long minutes staring at them, trying to decide why such ordinary things like lamp posts, buildings, and streets were so fascinating.

"It's the movement," he finally said.

"Harry!" Ginny wound her hand into the crook of his arm. "I purposely didn't charm them to move. It's one reason that Ron hates my work, I think."

"No, there's movement there," Harry said. "You just have to see it in your mind, not with magic. The one with the red flowers in the window box. In the edge of the frame, you can just see a bit of pale skin, like a hand reaching out toward the flowers. I just...I imagined a woman passing by, touching them as she passed."

"The photographs were black and white, Harry." She scolded him, but there was a pride in her tone, as if she was thrilled that maybe he could see something that she'd seen. "Magical Snapdragons. The woman there is the one who planted them. When you brush them, they snap at you and belch fire. She was showing me. I took the photograph just after they belched. I didn't want to show the magic."

"You wanted us to see it for ourselves." It made sense to Harry, but he'd also grown up muggle, understanding some things that Magical people took for granted.

"How did you know they were red?" Ginny leaned her head against his shoulder and Harry pulled her in closer to him, his arm going around her.

"I didn't, not for sure," he said. "I just...imagined it."

Ginny stopped walking and looked up at him, her lip caught between her teeth. "You're really not like anyone I've ever met before, Harry." There was a blazing look in her eyes and Harry felt himself lean forward, pressing his lips to hers.

She squeaked a little in surprise, but clung to him, matching his fervor.

"Do you mind?" Harry asked when they broke apart.

"That you kissed me?!" Ginny threw her head back in a full laugh. "Not at all. I was trying to find the right time to do it myself."

Harry felt a bit out of control, light headed and filled with more joy than he'd remembered feeling in a long time. He could hardly feel the cold outside anymore; he just felt warm where Ginny was pressed against him.

"I want to kiss you again," he said.

"What's stopping you?"

"We're in the middle of the sidewalk. Anyone could walk by." He tugged at a bit of red hair that stuck out of her cap, brushing his fingers along it.

"You know how to fix that, Harry." The look she gave him lit a fire deep down inside.

"My flat is a mess. I just got home today. Haven't unpacked at all."

"Mine is full of boxes. And a roommate."

"My place it is." He closed his eyes, trying to focus, and took her with him.

A shyness overcame Harry when they arrived. He let his arms fall away from her, and fumbled for her hand as she took it all in.

Questions rocketed in his mind like a Wildfire Whiz-bang. Did GInny mean what he thought she meant by coming here? Could they really…? And what would happen if they did?

"I like it." She gave a firm nod, approving his cramped flat. It wasn't much, but it was his own.

"It's a mess." He hoped she didn't mind the stacks of mail on the table, or the suitcase laying open in the middle of the hallway.

She tugged off her hat and cloak, dropping them on the end of the sofa before moving in closer, winding her hands past his cloak and clinging to him. "Harry, I didn't come to see your flat." Her breath was warm on his chin, her nose almost brushing his.

"Yeah?"

She initiated the kiss this time and Harry let himself follow, an intoxicating rush of feeling pulling him under. He felt her tongue brush his. He felt her fingers in the spaces between the yarn of his jumper, twisting in the cabling. He felt the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed against him. He felt all of her.

He took several steps, pushing her back toward the wall next to the fireplace. As lightheaded as he felt, he needed something solid to hold him up. Ginny continued kissing him, her hand rising up to bury in his hair, holding the back of his neck.

They only broke apart for air before continuing again.

"Are you drunk, Ginny?" Harry asked as he adjusted his skewed glasses.

"Not at all. Are you worried about my virtue, or yours?"

Harry thought about that for a moment, but her hands were doing wonderful things to him, and he decided that he just didn't care anymore. "Maybe both." He leaned in and kissed her again, burying his fingers in her hair.

Ginny pulled away just enough to speak. "No need to worry. You're safe with me."

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her. "Okay."

...HP…..

Ginny didn't seem to mind the mess-she stepped over the suitcase and didn't comment at all on Harry's half-made bed. Harry was glad that he'd at least cleaned the sheets before he left for Spain.

Harry's heart pounded as he clung to Ginny's hand. Nerves were beginning to settle in. It'd been awhile since Harry had been in any sort of position like this. He worried that Ginny might have expectations…

"Stop thinking." She tugged on his belt loops and pulled him close as they stood next to his bed. "I can see your wheels turning from here."

"Sorry." He let out a deep breath and decided that he was all in. No more overthinking, no more questioning. Ginny wanted to be here-she'd said so herself-and he wanted her here.

"Can you see without these?" Ginny lifted his glasses from his ears, slipping them down his nose.

"Yeah. Just not far."

She laughed and set them on the bedside table. "I don't plan on being far away tonight."

Harry swore to himself and pulled his jumper off, leaving only his undershirt. He tossed it to the side, letting excitement and arousal push all nerves out of his mind. They kissed, making out like teenagers hidden away in some dark alley at Hogwarts: tongues caressing, hands clutching, bodies rubbing together. Harry didn't remember kissing being so arousing before, but he was losing his mind with the sighs that Ginny was letting out and the way that she was just as abandoned to the sensations as he was.

"You're driving me crazy," he murmured as they rocked together.

"Kind of the point." Ginny removed her shirt and Harry belatedly fumbled trying to help her, making them both laugh.

He swore again when she was standing there in just her bra and jeans. Somewhere she'd lost her shoes. Ginny nudged him backward until he sat on the edge of the bed. She continued losing clothing...socks, jeans, until she was standing before him in just her undergarments.

"You're a little too dressed."

Harry shook his head, trying to clear it. He'd just noticed…

"Harry?"

"Where did you get this?" He lifted his hands to her hips, his left thumb smoothing over the dark ink that he could just make out in the shadowy bedroom. Three small Quidditch hoops were tattooed on her hip, and a quaffle that magically zoomed in and out of them over and over.

"Just a little something I picked up." Ginny glanced down at the tattoo and reached down to touch it. "I played on the school team."

"Nobody ever told me that."

"I never told anyone," Ginny whispered. "Didn't want them to feel bad when they couldn't come all that way to see a game."

Harry couldn't stop himself from leaning in and pressing his lips to the illustration there. Her skin was warm and smooth.

"I'm sorry." He looked up to see her staring down at him, something deep in her eyes.

"S'okay."

"They should have been able to come."

Ginny's nose scrunched and she shrugged it away. "Nothing for it now."

"You were a chaser."

"Yep."

Harry pulled her closer, kissing along her hipline to her belly button, and then upward. "I love Quidditch."

Ginny laughed and buried her hands in his hair. "I know. Ron used to tell me how good you."

"I was good," Harry said, feeling cheeky. "I can show you how good."

"I want to see it."

She reached for the clasp on her bra-in the front!-but Harry stopped her. "Let me." He fiddled with it a moment before it released and the fabric fell away, leaving her free for Harry to explore.

"Ginny."

He lost himself for long moments, kissing, tasting, and worshiping. Ginny continued her soft sounds and finally sat on his knee, rubbing against him for friction.

"How good, Harry?"

"Very good."

She laughed as Harry seized her around the middle and spun them so that she lay back against his pillows. He made quick work of his shirt and jeans, and then shyly removed his boxers. Ginny reached for him, sliding her hand up his side, making him flinch at the tickle. Recognition sparked in her eyes and he knew that one day she would exploit that little weakness.

"Alright?"

"Yeah."

They worked together to remove Ginny's underwear, and it was tossed to the side. Harry leaned in and kissed her, careful not to put his whole weight on her, but Ginny was having none of it. She tugged him down until he was settled between her legs, fully covering her.

Never before could Harry remember it being this easy, this...simple. It was like he knew what to do, where to touch, where to taste, to make Ginny keen and yearn for him. And her hands were never still. She touched him everywhere, driving him crazy.

"More," she whispered into his ear as he licked and sucked on the skin at her collarbone.

Harry's hand reached between them as he slid his knees upward, bracing himself. She was ready for him as his fingers found her warm center. He touched her inside and out, continuing to kiss her.

The room was lit only by the faint light of a street lamp outside and the glow of the magical alarm clock, but it was just enough for Harry to see her face, to see the way she chewed on her bottom lip, and rocked up toward him when he touched her. Slowly, as though he couldn't help himself, Harry slid down, laying a trail of kisses along her body.

Ginny Weasley.

He couldn't believe she was here, and for right now, she was his.

One more kiss on her hip and he licked at her center, smiling when she arched into him. He swore he heard a similar word slip out of her mouth, but the blood was pounding too loudly in his ears to make it out completely.

Ginny lifted onto her elbows, watching as he made love to her with his mouth. Harry concentrated on the task at hand, holding her hip in place, and forcing his own desire to stay at bay. It only took a few swirls of his tongue before she came undone, arching against his mouth, head thrown back in pleasure. Harry slid a finger inside, wanting to feel the pulses there.

"What do you think, Harry?"

Harry lifted his head, blinking at her breathy question. "Wha-?"

"Think you can score?"

He was perplexed for a moment before seeing her look down to where his thumb was covering her tattoo. The little quaffle was prevented from entering the hoops by Harry's finger, but was swirling around at various angles, trying to score.

Harry laughed. "Well, I usually played Seeker, but I'll see what I can do." He moved up onto his knees again, having been laying down to access her. His body hummed with excitement and need.

Ginny's hands found him and slid a condom on expertly.

"I have faith in you."

Harry moved up to hover over her. "What do you like, Ginny? Me on top? You on top? Behind?"

Ginny kissed him, humming low in her throat. "I like it all," she said. "But...I want to kiss you right now."

Harry lowered, using a hand to place himself at her opening, and then slid in, slowly, inching forward until he was completely inside.

"Score," Ginny whispered as she lifted her knees to rest along his sides.

Harry could barely think with the desire coursing through him. He rocked forward, kissing her as he slid even deeper. The feeling made him close his eyes and grit his teeth. This wasn't going to last long. He wanted to feel bad about that, but there was no way with the sounds Ginny was making, and the way her hands splayed out along his shoulder blades, and the swirling motions she was making with her tongue against his. He surrendered to just feeling.

They rocked together until Harry couldn't hold himself back any longer. One look at the way her breasts moved when he thrust and he was gone, lost to the oblivion of release.

"Seeker, my arse," Ginny giggled as she held her to him. "That's the best score I've ever seen."

Harry laughed and wrapped his arms around her. He was surprised at how much fun he'd had tonight-and not just the sex, but the talking, and seeing aspects of Ginny Weasley that he had never imagined existed.

Sex had always been a very mechanical thing for Harry, in the past. He needed release, and he found a way to get release. He always tried to make it pleasant for his partner, but what he'd just experienced with Ginny was far and away the best thing he could ever remember.

"Let's go to sleep," he murmured, rolling off Ginny. He quickly cleaned himself up and then pulled her to him. The idea of being apart right now didn't seem right. It felt like their night was just beginning.

"Night," Ginny kissed him sweetly, and pulled a pillow further under her head. She didn't seem inclined to leave, either, and that was just fine with Harry.

…..HP…

Ginny woke in the dull light of early morning, still in Harry's bed. She blinked a few times, making sense of her dreams, only to realize that the images were not fantasy, but reality. She was in Harry Potter's bed, and they'd had mind-blowing sex just a few hours ago.

A part of her-buried deep, deep down-squealed like a little fangirl. Rather than embarrass herself, though, Ginny blew out a deep breath and tried to shift the emotions into place where they belonged. She'd harbored more than a little crush on Harry for years after leaving Hogwarts, but then life had taken over and relegated those feelings to the past, with little girl fantasies and dreams.

Her years at Beauxbatons had been wonderful, and very different than how she'd expected her education to go. She'd always thought there might be professional Quidditch in her future, but there in France, surrounded by the arts, a very different drive had been planted like a little seed that had continued to grow. She would always love Quidditch, but her photography filled a need in her to create that she hadn't even known existed until she found her first old camera in a magical thrift shop.

And so she'd built her own life, away from England, and set her family and friends on a shelf where she could admire them from far and take them down when she was feeling nostalgic. Maybe Ron was a little right that she'd forgotten about them, but Ginny saw it as a survival skill she'd had to develop to keep from being so damned homesick all the time.

The first year was the worst. Ginny had cried herself to sleep every night and written a thousand letters begging to come home. But she'd stopped herself from sending them, intent on proving to her family that she was strong enough to overcome anything that had been done to her.

Life in France was...good. It wasn't fantastic. She tried to love all the things she surrounded herself with-friends, boyfriends, food, and the beautiful locations. And, in a way, it had been enough for awhile. But there was a growing desire in her to get back to where she felt she belonged. And when the end of her internship came, her contract completed, Ginny felt like she was finally free to breathe again.

The first thing she did was run to the Ministry to check on portkey applications.

After making the decision to move back, Ginny had felt the days and weeks blur together. All of it was a mish-mash of moving boxes, international red tape, applications, and letters flying back and forth. There was so much to arrange, so many things to think about that seeing Harry Potter again hadn't even been in the top one hundred. Logically, she knew that they would see each other again soon-Harry was her brother's best friend, after all, and always around the Burrow, according to the letters her mother sent.

She looked forward to their meeting and even felt the butterflies of nerves in her stomach the first time she'd apparated home for a family dinner, in hopes of seeing him. And then he'd been sent out of the country for work. Hermione explained that it happened often, especially with Harry's notoriety, and Ginny had resigned herself to the idea of meeting him again eventually.

She certainly hadn't expected to see him at the pub last night, alone, and looking just as lonely as Ginny felt. He'd blown all her expectations out of the water and Ginny felt herself falling under the spell that she'd always swore wouldn't exist. She was...charmed by him, and he seemed to have absolutely no idea what he was doing to her.

Sex wasn't something she tried to think about much. It had happened a few times for her, mostly with boyfriends she'd made wait a respectable amount of time. And one night that had not turned out how she'd hoped it would.

But last night with Harry had set a bar that Ginny wasn't sure she'd ever reach again. And Harry had seemed to enjoy it as thoroughly as she had.

He was grinding against her in his sleep, fully erect. His hand on her hip, lightly pulling her back into him for friction.

Ginny giggled and arched back into him, making full contact. His fingers tightened, splaying out along her low belly.

"Harry."

He murmured against her shoulder and pulled his knees upward, curling her into his lap, where she could feel all of him.

"Harry, you're molesting me."

He woke at her whispered words, stilling all movement.

"Er...sorry." His hips slid backward on the bed and Ginny imagined that his face had turned horribly red. "I didn't-"

"Get back here." She tugged on his hand, pulling it back into place. "I was enjoying it. Just wanted you to enjoy it, too."

Harry laughed and kissed her shoulder before sliding forward, curling completely around her. "Yeah?"

Ginny reached back and pressed her fingers to the back of his neck, holding him in place as his hips began rubbing against her backside.

"Mmmhmm."

His fingers fumbled in his sleepy state, but soon enough he found the place she wanted them, sliding in and out of the moisture there, building a small, respectable release. It wasn't nearly the explosive, emotional orgasm from the night before, but Ginny was so relaxed that it was never going to be huge. She smiled when Harry pulled away and she could hear him digging in his nightstand for protection. Soon enough, he was back into position, lifting her top leg to slide his between them. With a smooth push, he was inside her once more.

Ginny was a little tender from their activities before-it had been awhile, after all-but her body remembered the rhythm that built naturally between them as Harry penetrated shallowly. Knowing it would not be enough for him, Ginny angled away slightly, pushing her behind into his lap.

Harry groaned in appreciation and his hands wrapped around her hips. (Who would have guessed that Harry was a hip man?!) He pulled and tugged her back and forth as Ginny changed the angle on her pelvis to allow him even deeper.

The coupling was lazy and filled with soft laughter at their fumbling. Harry slipped out a couple of times, swearing as he lined himself up again and pushed back into place.

It wasn't perfect, but Ginny found herself endeared by that fact. Harry wasn't trying too hard, he wasn't stressing, and he was laughing at himself. The urge to roll over and tackle him so that she could have her way with him was great, but he seemed so into it right now, that Ginny contented herself with making sure he was happy. He'd taken care of her before, anyway.

And there would be time.

Something inside her hinted that this was not a one-time thing. Or, two-time, as the case might be. Harry Potter had awoken something in Ginny that she hadn't known she'd been missing. He was sexy, and fun, and begging to be discovered.

"Can you go again?" he murmured, his fingers brushing her breast before delving between her legs once more.

"I'm okay."

But Harry wasn't to be deterred and coaxed another mild release from her before he finished himself.

"It's too early to be awake," he mumbled after cleaning them both up and pulling her down into the soft pillows again. "Go t'sleep."

"M'kay."

She pressed a kiss to his chest and let herself fall asleep to the soft sound of his even breathing.

…..HP….

He woke up with Ginny still at his side, her face pressed into his bicep. She was curled toward him, the sheet and blanket wrapped in her arm as she slept. Her hair was a riot of color against the white sheets and Harry liked seeing it there. It reminded him of the red flowers in her photograph.

Last night had been brilliant. And early this morning, too.

There was something there between them that Harry had never experienced with anyone he'd ever dated-or even been interested in. A spark, he decided, for lack of a better word. And he had absolutely no idea where it was going to go, if anywhere, but for now, he was happy.

He closed his eyes and let the memories replay, seeing flashes of her pale, perfect skin in his mind. They'd had fun getting to know each other in so many different ways.

"Morning."

She peeked one eye open and smiled. Harry couldn't help but turn and gather her to him, tugging linens out of the way so that he could touch her again.

"Morning."

He felt like an idiot. A happy idiot. Staring at her, grinning, and feeling that same burning from last night down deep in his chest.

"Hungover?"

"Told you last night that I wasn't drunk." She arched and Harry snuck a peek as the sheet drifted lower, revealing more flesh to his hungry eyes.

"Good."

She rolled toward him, sliding her leg between his, her hand finding a home on his hip. "Do you have to work today?"

"Yeah."

Her lip came out in a small pout that he wanted to kiss away. There wasn't much of her that he didn't want to kiss, actually.

"That's the beauty of working for yourself, I guess," she said.

"What're you going to do now that you're home?" he asked. "I meant to ask last night, but…"

She grinned and ran her toes up the back of his calf. "Yeah, we got a little distracted,didn't we?"

The urge to get distracted again almost overtook Harry, but he felt a little greedy and tamped it back down.

"I want to do another book, honestly. One that actually sells better this time."

"I'd buy it."

"You don't even know what it's about," she protested. "What if it's nudes?"

Harry blinked at her, his mouth going dry. "Er…"

But Ginny just laughed. "It won't be. That's not my style." His fingers dug into her side and she squirmed, but didn't pull away. "I like architecture. Can you imagine a book about Hogwarts?" She hummed in absolute pleasure and Harry knew that he wanted to hear that sound over and over again.

"I'd buy it," he said. "A hundred of them."

"Is it weird how not weird this is?" Ginny asked. "I mean, we don't really know each other."

"Don't we?" Harry asked. "I feel like i've known you forever."

"Me too."

"And I don't know if it's weird or not. I don't do this often." He felt his face heat.

"Me either." Ginny pressed a kiss to his collarbone.

"And it's not like we have to define it," Harry said. "We have time."

It seemed like an unspoken understanding between them. This wasn't one night. And it wasn't a drunken mistake. It was something that they both wanted to explore, a connection that hadn't existed before she'd taken a seat next to him at the pub and they began talking.

"Ron's going to lose his mind." She sounded a little proud and Harry laughed.

"He and I have an...understanding. We don't talk about sex."

Ginny propped up on one elbow and looked down at him. "Because you don't want to hear-"

"Merlin, no!" Harry groaned. "Not a word. She's like my older sister."

"And Ron doesn't try to live vicariously through you?"

"He asks, sometimes," Harry said. "But I don't have that much to tell, I assure you. The scar either scares them away, or makes things too complicated."

Ginny glanced up, as if just remembering that the scar existed. She gave a little shrug of her shoulder. "I can see how that might be an issue."

"I'm not going to tell him a word," Harry said. "It's none of his business."

"I like that strategy."

They kissed, long and slow.

"You're going to be late for work."

"Don't care."

…HP…..

Hermione knew there was something different about Ginny from the moment she walked into the flat. They didn't know each other well-mostly polite exchanges of letters, and a couple of visits sprinkled through the years here and there-but Ginny was a Weasley, and definitely wore her heart on her sleeve. Hermione had a feeling they'd be fast friends. That's why she'd jumped at the chance to help her unpack boxes and get settled.

"Help yourself to anything in the fridge," Ginny called out as she balanced two boxes and levitated them down the hallway toward the bedrooms. "Petula went out for the evening."

Hermione removed her scarf and cloak, hanging them on a hook near the door. The place was not large, but the open floor plan and light colors made it seem larger than she'd expected. Granted, it was probably magically expanded.

She'd been after Harry to petition the Ministry for the permits to magically expand his own tiny flat, but he'd said it was too much bother and that he didn't need much space, anyway. In a way, he was right. Harry didn't require much in the way of furniture or clutter; he was a fairly simple wizard. Plus, he was rarely home. He worked so much, and was always off on grand adventures in this country or that province. He claimed the work was dull boring, but Hermione envied him, just the smallest bit. She'd always loved to travel.

"Ron actually let you leave his side tonight?" Ginny asked as she came back into the living room.

Hermione chuckled. "We're not joined at the hip, you know." Ginny's eyebrow rose and Hermione felt her cheeks heat. "We have different interests. He and Harry have their little pub night every Monday.

"Except last Monday." Ginny laughed and then froze for a moment before shaking her head and moving toward another box. "Mind putting this one in the kitchen?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. Last week was…" She grabbed the box and moved swiftly toward the kitchen counter, her mind flashing scenes of the romantic Valentine's Day that Ron had surprised her with. Who'd have thought he was capable of it?!

"Ron told Mum that he surprised you," Ginny said as she came to lean on the counter next to Hermione. They worked together to place Ginny's kitchenware into the cupboards.

"Yes. Well…" She didn't want to spill the details, not really sure how GInny would handle them. And to some people, Ron's misadventures in Hermione's kitchen to produce a decent meal would have been less than romantic, but Hermione appreciated the effort. Plus, he'd been rather...enthusiastic about some new literature he'd found about positions to enhance… Ahem. Well…. It had been an eventful night.

"Is it strange," Ginny asked. "Ron's not really…. I guess, I only see him one way."

Hermione sighed. Ron's views of Ginny and her limited interactions with the Weasley family over the past years were well known. He didn't hide his disapproval well. Hermione didn't know all of the things that had taken place when Ron had visited France, but she suspected that there were some rather harsh words shared that had forever altered the siblings' relationship. It was a shame, but perhaps they could begin to rebuild now that Ginny was back in England.

"Give him time," Hermione said. "Ron is very stubborn-"

"Don't I know it."

"-and he's always convinced he's completely right, up until the moment that he's proven completely wrong."

Ginny laughed and shook her head. "No change then. He's been like that since he was little."

"He loves you, GInny, he just…" Hermione took a moment to decide on the right words. "He just had his relationships with his family all in place in his head, I think, and then when…" She trailed off.

"You can say it," Ginny said. She gave a smile and a shake of her head. Hermione thought there was still a shadow of doubt there, even if it was buried under the passing years. ANd who could blame Ginny?

"When the CHamber of Secrets happened," said Hermione, diplomatically, "everything changed. He saw you leaving, and knew he couldn't do anything about it. He felt so helpless. He whined to me and Harry for months. I thought Harry was going to hex him the next time he heard your name."

Ginny gave a laugh and hopped up onto the counter. "Really? Harry was sick of hearing about me?"

Hermione finished putting the last of the cutlery away and turned. "Oh, not in that way! I just mean, well, Harry felt a bit helpless, too, I suppose. He felt like it might be his fault, I'm sure."

"Daft boy." There was a fondness that that struck Hermione for a moment, but then she dismissed it as just in her mind. Everyone knew that Ginny had fancied Harry once upon a time, after all. Perhaps it was just those old feelings being brought to the surface again since Ginny was home again.

"His saving people thing," Hermione said. "But then...the year progressed."

"And everyone forgot about me."

"No, not completely, anyway." Hermione felt guilty herself for the way that they had moved on without Ginny. That was the year that Sirius had escaped, and Hermione was so busy with all of her classes. Harry was obsessed with discovering his past, and had dragged them all into it with him.

"I'm fine, Hermione," Ginny said. She gave a little hop and landed on her feet, patting Hermione's arm. "I really am. It was years ago."

"Still." Hermione scowled. She didn't plan on letting the maudlin mood take over tonight. There would be a time for dealing with all of it, but not tonight.

"Tell me all about Beauxbatons," she said, instead, forcing herself to be cheerful. "I was always so curious."

They spent the next hour or so chatting as the flat began to take shape. Boxes disappeared as Ginny described not only her education, but her friends, and the boys she'd dated, and her art. It was all fascinating and Hermione felt a longing to visit France again. She'd only experienced a bit of it in her travels with her parents, but Ginny had been so immersed in it all. It was hard not to be jealous.

But Ginny peppered Hermione with her own questions about Hogwarts and the war. Mrs. Weasley had done her best to shelter her only daughter from the war in her letters, but GInny was a smart girl and knew more than anyone would probably guess.

"We had news, of course," she said when Hermione asked how much she knew. "And Mum did tell me about Harry and the...well...everything that happened."

"A modified version," Hermione corrected. "I'm sure."

Ginny sighed. "Yes. Well, what ickle Ginny doesn't know won't hurt her, right?"

Another wave of frustration rippled off Ginny, but she shook it away. "I could really use a drink," she said. "Are the boys still at the pub?"

Hermione checked her watch (plenty of time, dearie) and nodded. "Should be," she said. "I heard Ron say that everyone was planning to come tonight."

Ginny suddenly seemed much more enthusiastic about the prospect of giving up on the last few boxes. "Who is everyone?"

"Well, Ron and Harry, of course. And probably Seamus and Dean. Possibly Neville. Fred and George would love to go-"

"But they're banned," Ginny said with a laugh. "I've heard." She began gathering her cloak and hat, pulling it down over the two braids she'd woven into her hair.

"Shouldn't we…" Hermione gestured to the last few boxes but Ginny shook her head.

"They'll keep. I've lived this long without them, a few more days won't hurt."

WIth a scowl, Hermione sighed. She was quite thirsty herself, and the idea of laughing with her friends did sound good. Plus, with Ginny joining them, there would be another girl to help Hermione hold her own against all of the rowdy boys. Maybe tonight would be quite fun, after all.

"Okay. Let's go."

The Quiet Witch was busy when they arrived and Ginny's face lit when she stepped inside and heard the noise from Ron and Harry's usual booth.

"Bit blottered, aren't they?" she said with an eager laugh. "We'll have some work to get even with them."

Hermione wanted to point out that Ron could-and would-drink anyone under the table. Harry was a bit more reserved, but Hermione had seen him quite drunk a time or two. He had the tendency to get giggly, which made Hermione laugh. There was a time last year when he'd been dating that German Auror, Lena, that they'd all gotten pissed after one of Ron's Quidditch games. They'd laughed themselves silly playing gobstones at Ron's flat. Well, except Lena, who was far more taciturn than any of them, even though she'd matched Ron pint for pint. Hermione wasn't sure what had eventually happened to Harry and Lena, since Ron had carted her off to the bedroom. Harry had been gone when Hermione had woken up the next morning with the hangover from hell.

Harry had never mentioned it, and Lena had returned to Germany a few weeks later. Harry hadn't dated anyone since, that Hermione knew of, and seemed content to just float through life.

The boys were all laughing when Hermione and Ginny approached the booth, all except Harry, how was scowling, his arms crossed across his chest.

"Was that an admission?"

"An admission of what?" Hermione asked as she looked back and forth between Harry and Ron. She slid into the seat next to her fiance while Ginny took the empty spot next to Harry.

"Harry's seeing someone. He met her here on Valentine's Day and went home with her."

"Oh." Hermione's eyes widened and she peered at her best friend. But Harry's face was etched in stone. She couldn't read him when he got his serious Auror face on. The idea that Harry had met someone was...well…. Exciting, but surprising. After Lena, Harry had said he wasn't interested in dating anymore. Hermione had chided him a bit, and even offered to fix him up, but Harry had resisted, saying that he was fine how he was right now.

The idea that he'd likely gone home with someone… Well, that was a whole other idea that Hermione didn't want to entertain. Honestly, most of the women who chased after Harry were less than desirable, in Hermione's opinion.

"That's your theory," Harry said. "A bloke can come to a pub by himself and leave alone, you know."

Even the witches he'd dated in the past lacked certain qualities that Hermione had naturally assumed would draw Harry in. In all honesty, she'd always seen him with someone a bit more like...

"Same for a witch," Ginny said fiercely. She gave Harry a firm nod of solidarity before turning on Ron. "Or don't you favor equal rights, Ron?"

Ron was nearly vibrating next to her, and Hermione wondered how much he'd had to drink. There was a tipping point with Ron when he went from stern and commanding to absolutely silly, and at times it was only the matter of a pint or two. Or a firewhisky.

"You keep out of this, Miss Fancy Pants. I'm talking about Harry, not you." He pointed at her and Hermione growled.

"Ron!" This was no place to air their family disagreements, and how dare he…

Ron turned to her. "What? Ginny has no business getting involved in Harry's-"

"-how dare you talk to her that way-"

"-he's my friend-"

"-our friend-"

"-care anyway-"

"-has the right-"

"-don't see why you-"

"-too blind to see-"

In the middle of their whispered, heated exchanged, Hermione glanced over to see if anyone was watching them. What she saw made her stop arguing, even though Ron continued.

Harry was leaning into Ginny's shoulder, his lips nearly touching her ear as he whispered something to her.

Ginny tilted her head toward him, whispering back.

This was not the exchange of two people who had just met again, or even two who were casual acquaintances.

Could they have met before now?

Hermione's mind was made up when they both smiled at the same time, eyes meeting. There was a familiarity there, a bond that had been forged over more than just the last five minutes.

Hermione gasped and Ron's eyebrows came down lower over his eyes, mentally tracing back what he'd said in his rant that made her respond so forcefully. But he shook it away and turned on Harry again.

"Oi! You'll tell her, but not me?"

"Tell me what, Ron?"

Hermione tugged on Ron's arm, trying to get his attention. Ginny's face was turning red and Hermione guessed that she wasn't going to take anymore of her brother's rubbish tonight. A storm was beginning to swirl as they kept sniping at each other.

Harry broke the tension. "That's enough." He banged his fist onto the table, making the contents jump. Hermione hiccuped in surprise, but then had to bite her lip to keep from cheering him on. "Not here," he said. "And not tonight."

He caught her gaze and for just a second, everything was laid bare to Hermione. He and Ginny… She must have been the one he met up with on Valentine's Day and… Well. Whatever had happened, had made her friend happy. She could tell just by looking at the way he sat close to Ginny, and the protective way he was angled in front of her to shield her from Ron. Ginny might be fiery enough to hold her own in a dual with her brother, but Harry would have his wand drawn before Ron could ever even think of a spell, Hermione knew.

"Why don't we go play darts?" Hermione asked Ron. "You can try teaching me how again."

Ron spluttered at her, but let Hermione push him out of the booth and toward the back corner of the pub where the dart board was.

It was hard not to break out in laughter while Ron instructed her in the fine art of the game of magical darts. Hermione's mind was a million miles away, imagining the scene where Harry and Ginny met and began dating. It had only been a week, but there was something there, Hermione could see it. And while they were doing a pretty good job of keeping it quiet, so far, anyone who really knew Harry could read him like a first edition copy of _Hogwarts: A History_.

"Are you daft, woman?" Ron asked a few minutes later when Hermione held her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.

"Maybe," she said.

Harry's call of "check, please!" had sounded all the way across the noisy pub.

Ron came in close. "Are you drunk?" He sounded interested, intrigued and Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"I've only had two sips of your pint, Ron." She pulled Ron into her embrace, glancing over his shoulder to see Harry helping Ginny on with her cloak. Harry looked up and caught her eye. There was a momentary panic that flashed there, and then he smirked, winked at her, and opened the door for Ginny.

Harry Potter winked.

Hermione snorted.

"Let's get you a pint of your own," Ron said. "I need you to catch up to me. I have plans for tonight."

Hermione sighed and pushed him toward the bar. "Best get to it, then."

Will wonders never cease? Harry and Ginny. The very thought made her want to giggle and sigh all at the same time. It was like one of those horrible, guilty pleasure romance novels that she had hidden away in the back of her bookcase. And Hermione vowed to keep Harry's secret for as long as necessary, as long as that smile stayed on his face.

…HP…..

It was Monday again and Ron was adamant that he would be at the pub tonight. Harry hadn't brought up their missed meeting on Valentine's Day and neither had Ron. They'd both been busy with other things.

Harry had seen Ginny twice more this week. They'd shared dinner at a Muggle place not far from Harry's flat and he'd taken her to watch a film a few days later. It was casual, and comfortable, and completely brilliant.

She'd said that she might swing by The Quiet Witch tonight if she ever got more of her boxes unpacked, but she didn't sound hopeful when Harry had flooed her earlier.

The booth was full of their friends from Hogwarts, loud and sometimes rowdy. Hank kept their table full and even offered appetizers on the house. Harry was still trying to figure his angle, as Hank never gave anything away. He'd eyed the food dubiously, wondering what was slipped into it, while passing. So far, though, no one had had any serious side effects.

Ron was seated in the booth when Harry arrived, laughing at something Seamus had said. The others trickled in as the evening progressed.

"Where's Hermione tonight?" Harry asked.

"She went over to Ginny's new place," said Ron. "Helping to unpack boxes."

Seamus sat up straighter. "I heard your sister was back."

Ron glared at him. "I'm sure you did."

"Couple of the blokes from the office saw her the other day, said she was-"

"That's my baby sister you're thinking about there, Finnigan," Ron growled.

But the sandy-haired man just laughed. Harry remembered that he worked in the Wizengamot Administration Offices, just down the hall from Auror Headquarters. The blokes in there were known for being bigger gossips than the secretary pool.

"I remember Ginny," Neville said thoughtfully. "She was always nice to me."

They went around the table, giving vague memories that they had of Ginny. Harry kept his mouth shut. It was interesting to hear what they remembered about her.

"You're not really her type, anyway, Seamus," Ron said finally. "Right, Harry?"

Harry spluttered on his drink. "How would I know?" For a moment, he wondered if this was some sort of test that Ron was giving him. Had he heard about him and Ginny somehow? They weren't necessarily keeping it secret, just...private. They were happy with quietly exploring what might be between them without having the pressure of her family, or Merlin forbid, the press get wind of it.

They all stared at him. But ron just shook his head. "She dates European wizards," he said, his nose scrunched in distaste.

"Well, good for her," Neville said, holding up his pint in salute. The tips of his ears turned red and Harry appreciated, once more, how quietly brave Neville was.

The night went on with stories of their exploits at Hogwarts, things that their classmates were up to, and Quidditch. Always quidditch. Ron was sharing his latest moment of glory-a brilliant one-handed save that he swore was on purpose, but Harry was fairly sure was just dumb luck as Ron's arm had gotten caught on the hoop after a tricky evasion from his own team's bludger.

"This is the best part, Harry! You can't leave now!"

"I was there, Ron!" Harry scooted out of the booth, draining his drink before walking toward the loo in the back.

On the way back to the table, he stopped to talk to another Auror he occasionally worked with and her husband. When he made it back to his friends, whatever they were saying had died out and they were all staring at him. Harry glanced down to make sure his fly was up, and then scowled at them.

"What?

"Seamus was just telling us that you were late to work on Tuesday." Ron wore a smug grin that Harry wanted to hex right off his face.

He glanced at Seamus, who gave a helpless shrug. "You really have nothing better to do in that office, do you?"

"It's not like Robards kept his voice down. Your arguments are legendary. There's a betting pool on them."

Harry sighed and sank into his spot again. "So what if I was late?

"They were just speculating on why you were late," Dean said with a laugh.

Harry took a deep, steadying breath, weighing his options. He really didn't want to tell everyone why he was late. It was none of their business, just like he'd told Ginny. But he also wasn't ashamed of being with Ginny. In the end, their privacy won out and Harry vowed to keep his mouth shut.

"Had a lie in," he said simply. "Just got back the day before and I was tired."

"But you were here last week," Ron said. He rested his arms on the table, watching Harry from the other side.

Harry blinked at him. "Er…"

"Hank said you left your scarf."

Damn. He'd completely forgotten about his scarf. What else had Hank spilled while Harry was taking a piss?

"Yeah, I dropped by for a pint."

"Uh huh. On Valentine's Day?"

"Come on, Harry," Seamus said. "There are always witches interested everywhere you go."

Harry narrowed his eyes and sat back against the booth. "Really? I barely notice."

"You were late because you met someone," Ron said. "I think that's why."

"So what if I did?"

Ron leaned forward. "Was that an admission?"

"An admission of what?"

They all turned as Hermione and Ginny walked up, tugging at cloaks and removing their warm winter gear. The booth magically expanded, sliding outward to offer more seating. Hermione slipped in next to Ron, and Ginny took the spot next to Harry.

"Harry's seeing someone," Ron informed his fiancee. "He met her here on Valentine's Day and went home with her."

Harry felt Ginny's fingers brush his side and fought the urge to grasp them in his.

"Your theory," Harry pointed out. "A bloke can come to a pub by himself and leave alone, you know."

"Same for a witch," Ginny said with a smirk. "Or don't you favor equal rights, Ron?"

They all laughed and Harry wanted to kiss her. Granted, that would kill the whole privacy thing completely, but…

"You keep out of this, Miss Fancy Pants," Ron said, pointing at his sister. "I'm talking about Harry, not you."

"Ron!" Hermione turned on him and they began arguing.

"Thanks," Harry murmured to Ginny. "I owe you one."

"I'll collect later." Her hand glanced along his thigh and Harry fought the urge to raise his wand and summon the check from Hank so they could leave right now.

Ginny reached past him to the plate in the middle of the table, but Harry nudged it away. "I wouldn't," he murmured.

"What's wrong with it?"

"No clue, yet. But I have a feeling this is somehow connected to Fred and George and the feud they have going with Hank."

"Who's Hank?"

"The bartender," Harry said with a nod in Hank's direction. "He never gives free food, but he sent this whole plate over-a large order."

Ginny eyed it dubiously before giving a firm nod. "I'll trust your judgement, then."

"Probably wise. Nothing's happened just yet, but-"

"Oi!" Ron broke into their quiet conversation. "You'll tell her, but not me?"

"Tell me what, Ron?" Ginny said. Her cheeks were flushed, but not in a good way, Harry realized. She'd had just about enough of Ron's meddling in her life. He and Hermione exchanged a glance and then both shrugged, as if saying that whatever was going to happen was going to happen no matter if they stepped in or not.

And Harry wasn't about to stop Ginny from hexing Ron's bits off. He'd been far too patronizing and condescending lately.

"Since when do you two talk?" Ron kept on.

"Since when is it any of your business who I'm friends with, Ron?"

"It's not," he said. "You made that clear when you left for years and didn't come home."

"That's enough," Harry said, his voice raised. Other patrons in the pub turned to look, but Harry didn't care anymore. He wasn't about to let this family issue be dragged out in public. It was obvious that both Ron and Ginny needed to deal with the emotions and repercussions of Ginny's absence for the past eight years.

"Not here," he said. "And not tonight."

"Why don't we go play darts?" Hermione asked Ron. "You can try teaching me how again." She pulled ron out of the booth, chattering away. Ron went, reluctantly, but glanced over his shoulder at Ginny, who glared back at him.

"Well…"

"And that's enough from you, as well, Finnigan," Harry warned.

Seamus held up his hands in surrender, but grinned. "I was just going to say that I've had about all I can handle for the night. See you all next week." He motioned for Dean to follow him and they slid out of the booth.

Dean leaned down to Ginny just before leaving. "It's good to see you again. Maybe we can go out someday-"

"Thanks," Ginny said, "but I'm seeing someone."

Her hand found Harry's on the bench and twined their fingers together, giving a little silent acknowledgement to him.

"Can't blame a guy for trying," Dean said with a laugh. He turned and followed Seamus out.

"I think I'm going to head out, too," Neville said. He gave both Harry and Ginny a thoughtful look before scooting out past them. "It was good to see you, Ginny."

"Are you going to ask me out, too, Neville?"

He paled and stammered for a moment before Ginny just laughed. "I'm teasing."

"Okay. Well, goodnight."

They watched him go, Ginny leaning into Harry's side. The booth had shrunk back to a cozy size, allowing them to sit together without drawing too much attention to their status as a couple.

"How soon can we go?" Ginny asked.

"Had enough already?"

She nodded. "Ron." It was all that needed to be said and Harry wanted to wrap his arms around her, hold her until she wasn't worried about her brother's prattish ways any longer, but they were still in public.

"He'll come around."

"When I'm forty," she grumbled.

"Maybe by then."

They shared a smile.

"You didn't tell them."

"None of their business," Harry reminded her.

"Yeah."

"But you should probably deal with this Ron situation before it gets out of hand."

"Not tonight," she said. Leaning in closer, she pressed a kiss to his neck. "Is it okay if I just want to go home with you and forget it all happened?"

"Check please?!"

…..HP….

A month of pub nights passed. Ginny kept her distance when Ron was around, but that was the only part of Harry's life that wasn't brilliant. He was the happiest he'd ever been and he was not afraid to say that he was head over heels in love with Ginny, already. He wasn't looking forward to another exchange he was set to make that would take him away for three weeks coming up soon. He'd argued with the Director, but given in when Robards promised it was the last one for the entire year, if Harry would just go.

Ginny had laughed at his grumbling about it, and promised that they'd be fine. She was just going to begin work on her new book, having received permission to delve into the architecture at Hogwarts. She promised that the next month she wouldn't be available much anyway, since she would be knee-deep in library research as she tried to suss out all of the history of the castle-beyond what _Hogwarts: A Histor_ y could tell her.

Unbeknownst to Ginny, Harry was planning a trip away for the two of them when he got back. It wasn't something lavish, just a weekend in Ireland at a little bed and breakfast where they could be together in public and not have to worry about who was watching.

The privacy thing was beginning to wear on them both and Harry was planning to talk to Ginny over their trip to see about coming clean with everyone.

"No lady friend tonight?"

Harry had chosen to sit at the bar tonight, rather than their usual booth. And he hadn't ordered Ron a pint this time.

"You never give up, do you?"

Ron laughed and slid onto the stool next to him. "One day you'll tell me."

Harry sighed and shook his head slowly. "One day you might listen."

"Hank confirmed it for me, Harry."

Hank sidled by, his stooped shoulders bouncing up and down as he plodded by. "Did not."

Harry just laughed. Hank might see everything that went on in his pub, but he kept his mouth shut. Another reason that Harry liked coming here.

"Fine." Ron tapped his fist on the bar, signaling that he wanted to order his drink. "Don't tell me. I don't understand you, Harry. You usually tell me everything."

"The things I don't tell you, Ron, could fill a library." Harry raised an eyebrow as Ron pondered that thought. "You don't know everything about my life. And I don't know everything about yours, thank Merlin. That's why we stay friends."

Ron laughed. "Point."

They drank in relative silence, commenting here or there on things that had happened throughout the week. Chudley had won a fairly convincing victory over the Kestrals and were enjoying a well-deserved week off before they would be flattened by the Arrows and Harpies. Ron commiserted their chances already by ordering a firewhiskey and toasting to the mostly empty pub.

"Don't forget I'm off for a few weeks," Harry said when they were gathering their things after just two pints together.

"Honeymoon?"

Harry ignored the barb. "Exchange. Be back in about a month."

"Floo me when you get in. We'll get together again. Hey, Harry, I know I tease you about it, but I really do hope you're happy."

The smile couldn't be helped. "I am, Ron."

…HP…

Ireland was beautiful, with it's green rolling hills and quaint little nooks and crannies. Ginny was intent on seeing as much of it as they could, even though their time was limited and Harry would much rather have spent all of it inside the bed and breakfast, seeing as much of Ginny as he could. Three weeks apart had made him grumpy. And horny.

The moment that they'd finally checked into their room-escorted by Mrs. O'Malley, who had wanted to show them every nuance and feature of the room-Harry was nearly pulling his hair out.

Ginny was just as eager to have him writhing beneath her, but she was much better at hiding it in company than he was.

Once he'd finally closed the door after hearing how nice the jetted tub was, Harry had spun on his heel and stalked toward Ginny, who was laughing and pretending to hide behind the four post bed. He'd tackled her onto the velvet duvet and they hadn't come up for air until long after Mrs. O'Malley had warned them they'd be missing out on her supper.

Walking through the streets after Ginny as she darted about, the clicks of her camera like the buzzing of a bee it was so frequent, made Harry laugh. There was so much raw enthusiasm and joy when she worked, prattling on about the style of architecture and the history behind it all, and pointing out each available shot.

Harry was entranced. Not by her words, or even the fact that someone could sound like Hermione and still be so very sexy to him, but just by Ginny. She was magnificent and smart, in a way that didn't drive him to want to push his wand through his eye like Hermione's lectures did, at times. He never got bored by her talking-and Ginny could talk until dawn, some days-but hung on her every word. And she loved Quidditch as much as Harry did. They enjoyed going to games and secretly cheering against everyone on Chudley, except for Ron, of course. And when she finally took a breath and let Harry talk, she was genuinely interested in what he had to say, unlike some of the witches he'd dated in the past. Ginny didn't care about Harry Potter, the celebrity. She was just as happy to spend the night in playing a game, or cuddling on the sofa, as she was go out. In fact, most of their dates were just take away and sex at one of their flats, before curling around each other in bed and talking until one or both of them fell asleep.

It was perfection, in Harry's mind.

"...a place like this not far from my flat in Paris," Ginny was saying as she pointed to the side of an old church where there was a secluded little area with a shaded bench. "I used to go there and sit so that I could just think."

Harry wound his arms around her middle, pulling her back to his chest as she leveled her camera at the alcove and snapped away.

"Come on," he murmured against her neck when she'd finished her shots. He tugged her through the wrought iron gate, ignoring her protests that they probably shouldn't be in there, and kissed her once they were hidden by the overgrown foliage surrounding the bench.

"Did you kiss anyone in your little hideaway in France?"

Ginny laughed and tucked her camera behind her back, melting into his embrace. "Nope. I never took anyone there."

"You can take me one day." He kissed her again and they lost each other in the moment.

"You really want to go?" she asked, breathlessly, sometime later. Harry wasn't sure if it was several minutes or several happy hours.

"I've been before," Harry said, "for work. I never wanted to leave the Ministry or the hotel, honestly. But, it'll be different when you take me." He tucked her hair behind her ear and Ginny peered up at him, eyes growing misty.

"I love you, Ginny."

He hadn't meant to say it right here, right now. In fact, he'd planned on telling her during a far more romantic moment at some point during their trip. But now was better, because she was looking up at him with those deep brown eyes, full of wonder and the possibilities.

"It's soon," he muttered, "I know, but-"

"Shut up, Harry," she said with a laugh. "I love you, too."

…HP…

Ireland had been amazing. Harry had followed along as Ginny snapped photograph after photograph, laughing at the way she got almost manically excited over the curve of a wall, or the buttress of a church. He may not understand it all, but he loved the way her eyes flashed and the way she saw things that not everyone did.

He'd told her he loved her-the first time saying the words-and she'd reciprocated. Harry once lamented that he could never understand how his parents could have fallen in love, gotten married, and decided to have him in the middle of a war. Now that he understood the depth of love-and, really, he knew they were just scratching the surface-Harry had a deeper appreciation for what his parents' had gone through and the reason that love was such a powerful force.

They'd also decided that it was time to start letting people know that they were together as a couple. Slowly, and on their terms.

Harry had come back from his exchange and left his luggage in the middle of his living room, grabbed another pre-packed bag and apparated straight to Ginny's to whisk her away. And the weekend had been perfect. He didn't want it to end.

"You're sure we have to separate?"

Ginny laughed and clung to the lapels of his cloak. "We've just spent the past seventy-two hours together, Harry. And I do love you, but I need to get my laundry going, and pay my rent. And my first official visit to Hogwarts is tomorrow morning."

They were wrapped around each other in the far corner booth at The Quiet Witch. It wasn't even half-past five in the afternoon yet, and the pub was completely empty. It was rainy outside and the windows were fogged over, leaving a sort of dreamy quality to the evening

"You were there almost every day I was gone."

"For research, yes, and to plan out my shots. But I'm going to actually start photographing tomorrow."

Harry tucked a bit of her hair behind her ear and didn't stop himself from nuzzling the curve of her neck. "It's going to be amazing. A best-seller."

Ginny wrapped her arms around his head and swung her legs onto his lap under the table. "Only if I'm not too bleary-eyed to take the photos. We barely got any sleep, remember?"

Harry hummed in satisfaction and tugged at the end of her ponytail. "You weren't complaining."

"You are completely wicked. And that's why I love you." She kissed him, and even though they were in public, where anyone could walk in, Harry reminded himself that he'd chosen the back corner for a reason. It was darker, half-hidden in shadow and almost impossible to see from the front of the pub.

"Okay," he sighed, but he didn't move at all, and he didn't stop kissing her.

"OI!"

Harry disengaged from Ginny, peering back over his shoulder to see Ron, Fred and George standing just feet from them. He hadn't even heard the bell on the door, he realized. He glanced at Ginny to find her completely disheveled, pressed up against the foggy window. He could see his own handprint there in the mist, just above where Ginny's head had been.

"Ron, listen...I can explain."

But Ron's flashing gaze settled on his sister, instead. "That's my best friend!"

Fred and George exchanged looks before breaking out into wide grins. "What do you think, Georgie?"

"I'd give it a solid nine."

"Eight point five," Fred responded.

Harry straightened himself and tried to figure out what was going on. Ginny, surprisingly, didn't flinch. She ran her fingers over her hair to smooth it back from where Harry had ruffled it, and stared at her brothers.

"I know you warned me to stay away from him, Ron-"

"What?" Harry's neck actually popped when he whipped back around to gape at her. "Since when-"

"-but we're in love."

Ron's mouth hung open, as if he couldn't quite process what he'd seen.

"Well we, for one-"

"-are happy," George said.

"As long as you're both happy."

Harry turned back to Ron. "What do you mean you warned her to stay away from me?"

"I just...I mean…" Ron threw his hand up toward his sister. "She's Ginny."

Harry forced himself to stay seated and he placed his hands on the table so he wouldn't be too tempted to hex Ron into next week.

"Yeah, that's why I love her."

"How long…" Ron shook his head. "Don't tell me this is Miss Valentine's."

"The one and only." Ginny grinned and slid closer to Harry. Harry slipped his arm around her shoulders before kissing her.

"And you've been…" He trailed off and made a sickened face. "You were late to work the next day."

Harry would have spilled the beans about how brilliant Ginny was in bed, but he was fairly sure tonight's revelations were about all that Ron could handle.

"I warned you to stay out of my love life," he said. "I thank you for your concern, but I'm doing just fine. And Ginny is nothing less than brilliant. And I love her. So, sod off, Ron, if that bothers you."

Ron's eyes widened and he blinked rapidly several times. "I…" He turned to look at Ginny. "You told Mum that it was serious with the bloke you were seeing."

The thought made Harry's chest puff out just a bit and he kissed Ginny again.

"It is," Ginny said simply. "You and I have a whole lot to figure out, Ron. You don't know me anymore, isn't that what you said? Well, know that I stick by my convictions. I don't make commitments that I'm not all in for. And I don't love easily." She looked at Harry and then back at her brother. "It's serious."

"Good enough for us." George slapped Ron on the shoulder. "Let's get a pint, shall we?"

"Hey! What're you two doin' in here?!"

Harry and Ginny both broke out in laughter as Hank came out of the back room and found the twins and Ron standing in his pub.

"Serious, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I could get used to that."

"Pretty sure you're going to have to. You heard what I told the prat. I don't love easily."

"It seemed pretty easy to me."

Ginny pinched his side and kissed him.

"Are you okay with serious?"

"Deliriously happy, my love."

Ron got used to them being together over the next year, and he started to work through his issues with Ginny, too. Harry knew that they'd met together on their own a few times. He didn't pry for details, but sometimes they would come bursting out of Ginny while they sat on the sofa, or while they prepared dinner together.

Weekly pub nights had faded into the past after The Great Revelation, as Fred and George called it. Harry missed them, but he and Ginny made sure to frequent The Quiet Witch often to support Hank and get out of their routines. Occasionally, others would appear and spend an enjoyable evening with the couple. Ron kept his distance for a couple of months before he began to come around more and more.

The Weasley's were over the moon when Harry and Ginny appeared at the Burrow together and announced their relationship. They'd even opened some good champagne that had been hidden in the back of the cupboard-"for a rainy day, dears-and toasted to love.

Valentine's Day rolled around again and Ginny surprised Harry this time with a two-week trip to France. He'd only been for a few prisoner transfers and official meetings, and had never stepped foot outside the Ministry.

Ginny showed him all of her favorite haunts and spots to see. They made out in little cafes all over the countryside, made love in a dozen different bed and breakfast rooms as they traveled ate far too much food, drank far too much wine, and had the time of their lives. Harry found that he was pants at speaking anything other than English, but he loved hearing Ginny rattle off phrases in French. And despite thinking it was impossible, he fell even more madly in love with her.

"Nobody will be here," Ginny warned as they hurried down the street to the pub. It was dumping rain, soaking past their waterproofing spells into their cloaks.

"Doesn't matter," Harry said. He clung to her hand and helped her jump over a large puddle in the sidewalk. "This is where it all started for us."

They ducked inside, surprised to see that nearly all the booths were full.

"Wow. I didn't expect…" Harry shook his wet hair and pushed it back from his forehead. Ginny pulled off her cloak and hung both of theirs on the full rack near the doorway.

"Over here!"

Their usual booth was packed-magically extended to its maximum size-and filled with almost all of their friends and family.

Harry and Ginny greeted everyone with handshakes, hugs, and slaps on the back before being ushered into a spot. Hank floated over another couple of rounds, keeping a dubious watch from under his thick eyebrows on the twins. Their ban had been lifted, but Hank warned them that if they ever brought any of their products into the pub he'd have them arrested. He didn't know what the charges would be, but he'd think something up. Harry had offered to do the honors, if necessary.

Harry was listening to Seamus go on about someone at the ministry when he overheard Hermione and Ginny's conversation.

"-you get back?"

"Yesterday," said Ginny.

"And was it just amazing?"

Ginny caught Harry's eye and winked at him. "Everything I could have hoped for."

"Oh, France is my favorite place."

"Yeah, if you like all that French stuff," Ron grumbled.

"Well, I do, Ronald Weasley."

Ron's eyes widened at his wife's snap and he sank just a little lower in the seat and sipped at his beer.

"How's the book doing, Ginny?" Neville asked from the far end of the table. "Gran loves her copy. And she can't stop talking about how you brought her Hogwarts days back to her."

Ginny lifted her drink in his direction. "Sold out the first printing," she said. A low cheer rippled along the table and Harry felt his chest expand with pride again.

"Did you really like all that French stuff?" Ron asked as he leaned across the table toward Harry. "Even the food?"

"Even the food," said Harry.

Ron thought about that, his face scrunched in thought. "What about-"

"Everything, Ron."

"Oh."

Hermione's squeal of delight drew their attention and Harry felt like the buttons on his robes might just burst. His friend was flailing and waiving about, throwing her arms around Ginny and laughing. She clasped GInny's left hand tightly, showing everyone around the table.

"They're getting married!"

Cheers went up and Hank immediately appeared, hovering near the table, lest he be allowed to demand Fred and George's removal for disturbing his pub. Harry waved him off amidst being mobbed by friends with congratulations and staggering slugs to the shoulders. Eventually, the ruckus settled down, Hank began breathing again, and Harry was allowed to sit next to Ginny, his fiancee, again.

"Wow. That's…" Ron was looking between the two of them, cogs in his mind turning.

"Aren't you happy for them, Ron?"

He blinked at Hermione and gave a slow nod. "Sure."

"Tell me all about it!" Hermione demanded. "When did he ask? How? Did he get down on one knee? Was it romantic? Oh, I'll bet it was romantic."

Harry laughed at her exuberance and nudged Ginny in the shoulder, indicating that it was up to her to tell the tale.

"Well, it was our last night in Paris," she said. "And we flew up to the top of the Eiffel Tower..."

Harry glanced at Ron, to see him staring down at the table, deep in thought.

"Alright, Ron?" He kicked his friend under the table and Ron looked up at him.

"Yeah. Yeah. Alright." Slowly, a smile spread across his face. "As long as you're both happy."

"We are."

"Okay."

They shared a smile before Harry's attention was drawn back as Hermione asked him all about buying the ring.


End file.
